


Forgotten Ones

by SouthBound



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Swan Princess (1994) Fusion, Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Romance, F/F, F/M, Fairy Tale Curses, Gen, M/M, Magic, Shapeshifting, sort of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-01
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2018-08-11 22:41:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 51,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7910401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SouthBound/pseuds/SouthBound
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sent to a foreign kingdom to strengthen an old alliance, Hanzo soon learns that nothing is as simple as it seems in this never ending war against the Omnics. There is no doubt that magic is at play, and those who wield it are unforgiving towards their enemies.</p><p>Alternate Universe which is loosely inspired by the Swan Princess/Swan Lake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_Day 9._

_Father,_

_As per your request, I am documenting our journey for you to read. Forgive me for not writing sooner; the Black Ocean is as unforgiving as you have warned me about. By the time we lost sight of shore, a great storm had pulled our ship off course. We lost a deck hand, the Creator bless his lost soul, within that first day. The Captain assured me that this is was quite common, and my respect for these callous men and women has grown. To risk their lives, living on this ship for months on end, and with these cruel waters as well… I would not dare myself._

_The crew aboard the ship seems nice, and they know their place around us. Still they expect us to work with them, to earn our keep and our supper. This took Genji by surprise, but by the time the storm had swept us away, he had no chance to argue with the Captain. And now that the storm has passed, he must continue the duties that belonged to the lost deck hand. I believe this is the hardest he has worked in years, save for training. You would be proud of him._

_The rough waters do nothing to me, but they have taken Genji. He has trouble sleeping. And every moment he is awake, he is brought on by sickness, throwing up anything he managed to stomach hours prior. The ship’s medic has given him a tonic, but it has yet to produce results. Genji is miserable, and for once I cannot blame him. He is quick to anger, and snaps at all those who speak too quickly, including myself. I will have a word with him once his body settles, do not worry._

_As I have mentioned, we were blown off course early in our journey. The storm lasted for four days, and those four days were the most suspenseful of my life. Sadly we will arrive later than expected, perhaps even two weeks later than expected, and the Captain is concerned about the food rations. He has not voiced this opinion, of course, but I can read it in his eyes. I have not shared this observation with Genji or the others; they have too much on their minds already._

_I will not plague your mind with my worries any longer. The night grows closer and the harsh ocean winds are making the top deck unbearable. I yearn for my warm bunk, and the dreams that take me away from this ship._

_It is lonely here, out on the ocean. I am thankful that Genji is here with me, even if he hates every moment he spends here. I enjoy his company, and perhaps now is the best opportunity to thank you. It was not necessary that he accompany me on this journey, and at the time of our departure I had not realized why you forced him to join me. But now I realize why._

_At least now I will not be alone in a city I do not know, with people who are complete strangers. At least I will have him. And he will have me. For as long as he is by my side, despite how much of a nuisance he can prove to be, I will always feel at home._

_Goodnight Father, I promise that I will write more often._

_Hanzo_

_Day 14._

_Father,_

_Genji has finally taken to living aboard the ship. He has yet to throw up his breakfast this morning, and the Captain has seen him fit enough to help on deck along with the rest of us. Yes, as I stated in my earlier entry, Genji has worked, but that was below deck, with the ship’s surly cook. Now he is on top, by my side as we help the ship sail west._

_The sun still does not approve of him, and his face and arms have turned a horrible shade of red. In time he will tan, but until then he is sore and irritable. Perhaps if he had spent more time outside back in Hanamura, he would not be in so much pain. But I digress._

_The crew has dropped their formalities around us, and they have started treating us as equals. Truthfully, the change was sudden and unexpected. It took me days to understand why I was being treated like any common man, but now I appreciate it. We are all brothers and sisters in arms when we work, where we eat, and where we sleep. It made little sense that the deckhands would continue to call us by our formal titles if we all performed the same duties._

_Genji had taken to it much faster than I had. I believe he enjoys pretending to be a commoner, pretending to be something that he is not. He will never admit to it, but I can see it in his smirk when he jokes, plays, and sings with the others on this ship. He is laughing much more than he was back at home. Hopefully now he realizes how much this trip will be good for him._

_Hanzo_

_Day 17._

_Father._

_The stars are beautiful out here when the weather is calm. The night sky can stretch on for hours here on the Black Ocean, with nothing to disturb it but the horizon that encompasses it. The Creator’s stars dazzle in a way that they never could when observed on land, and I find myself spellbound by their cold beauty._

_It was Genji’s urgings that made us sneak up into the crow’s nest in the dead of night when all but the night crew slumbered. With no light from the lamps below, or the moon above, we were alone with the stars. We sat there in silence for hours, fighting off exhaustion from our weary bones and muscles. We did not speak to one another for the longest time. We did not want to break the comfort we made in silence._

_And then, just as we were about to turn in, he had asked me if I was anxious about what awaited us once this voyage was over. At the time I could not answer him truthfully. I know what is at stake; you told us before we departed. It is our duty to act as ambassadors for our country, to be representatives of our people in this War, and to ensure that this alliance with the Gibraltan Kingdom is strengthened._

_I am ready to perform these duties, but can one ever be fully prepared for War? In truth it terrifies me to know that there may be a chance Genji or I will fall in battle, even though I know that you and the Elders have prepared me to the best of my abilities. Genji as well, despite how little he took our training seriously._

_I told him a lie tonight. I told him how confident we needed to be, that you wanted us to be. We are the heirs to the Shimada throne, and we must show how strong and steadfast we are to our people and to our allies. There is no room for hesitation or for fear. Hopefully Genji could not tell how nervous I truly was. Fortunately, he had fallen silent shortly after, perhaps contemplating over what I had told him. It matters not._

_In that moment in time, I wanted nothing more than to watch those stars, with my brother by my side._

_Hanzo_

_Day 22._

_Father,_

_It has been three weeks since our departure. This morning I was hit with a sudden wave of homesickness. No matter how hard I work, these thoughts have claimed my mind, and I cannot escape them. I miss Hanamura. It terrifies me that I will not see home for months, perhaps even years._

_I miss your voice, and your calm perseverance that you carry about. I miss our talks in the morning, shared over tea. I will miss your teachings and guidance through my lessons. I will even miss joining you in important meetings with dignitaries that I can scarcely remember names of._

_Genji misses you too. He hasn’t told me, but I can tell. He grows quiet sometimes, and I see his expression darken when he thinks no one is looking._

_I find that I cannot write more today. There is work to be done, and my mind cannot be occupied by anything else than that. Hopefully this bout of homesickness will pass within the next few days. I will write to you then._

_Hanzo_

_Day 28._

_Father,_

_If the Navigator’s star charts are correct, then today we have reached the halfway point in our journey. The Captain assures me that this is indeed a good thing, despite my suspicions. We have made great time, regaining much ground we lost from the storm. Within another month, we ought to reach landfall on the Western shorefront of the Black Ocean._

_Genji took the news with barely a grain of salt, seeming to be as relieved as that one time Elder Akio had cancelled the sparring mission with Cousin Haruto. As much as Genji has grown used to living aboard a ship, he misses the feeling of solid ground beneath his feet. I do as well, particularly when the waters grow choppy from the harsh eastern winds, shaking the ship until my footing grows unsure._

_Most of the time I do not mind living on this ship; I find it peaceful in fact. If only it wasn’t so uninteresting to l behold._

_Everything out here is blue. Blue has always been one of my favorite colors, reminding me of my chosen Dragons. But now that there is nothing but the blue of the cloudless sky, and the cold black waters, it has begun to haunt and sour my dreams. Blue is an unfriendly, unforgiving and lifeless hue. I miss the green of the leaves and grass, the colors of the Castle’s vast gardens. What I would give to see flowers again now that there is nothing but the wood of the ship and the far, endless horizon to gaze at._

_It must be approaching autumn back home. Have the leaves started changing to red and purple yet? From my musings and asking around the crew, I have gathered that the Gibraltan Kingdom is nothing like Hanamura. From what I heard, Gibraltan Kingdom is too close to the equator for a long, harsh winter, and due to that the autumns there are late and short. Hopefully when autumn does arrive, the colors of the leaves there are just as beautiful as they are in Hanamura._

_The Captain has noticed my slight unease and has taken to inviting me up to his bunk before I turn in for the night. He has seen this weariness in many of the younger deckhands he has hired throughout the years, and perhaps he wishes to help me through this process. We have shared many conversations together these past few nights, and the politeness of strangers we shared together has disappeared with the sharing of sake. He is very honorable, and I feel safe enough to call him a friend now._

_He has assured to me that this next coming month will fly by quickly. If I keep to my duties, then my waiting will soon be over._

_Hanzo_

_Day 31,_

_Our dear Father,_

_Hanzo has fallen sick. He has requested that I overtake these notes of his. As per his request, I have not gone rooting through the journals he has already made. I will respect his privacy._

_This sickness had started last morning when he awoke with a fever, and he has trouble sleeping through the nights. Sometimes he will wake and not truly be there, which has concerned me quite a bit. The Captain has him on bed rest, with one of the crewmates keeping a steady eye on him at all times. I myself watch him whenever possible._

_The ship’s medic has told me almost nothing about the sickness despite my queries. At this point I have been fully convinced he has no knowledge about anything medicinal related. But he has assured me that it is nothing fatal, so at least there is that._

_Still I worry for Hanzo. The last time I can remember him falling this sick was when he was 14 ~~when both he and mother~~_

_In my spare time I watch over him like the best younger brother he has. And Hanzo is in my thoughts when I work on the top deck. He helped me when my stomach could not tolerate the rough waters of this blasted ocean, and I feel powerless with no way to help him through this._

_I will write again when something changes._

_Your youngest and brightest son,_

_Genji._

_Day 33,_

_Our dear Father,_

_Hanzo’s fever has broken. The ship’s medic is convinced Hanzo will regain his strength by the week’s end._

_Hanzo is lucid enough to hold a decent conversation now, and he tires of sitting around all day. I had to force him to remain in bed this morning, with the captain’s help of course. His mood has soured because of this, but it is nothing that I can’t handle. I have had to deal with his sour mood all my life; one more day of this will not break me._

_Hopefully within the next few days Hanzo can continue writing this all by himself. I have never been able to pen words as proficiently as he can. I can never do his work justice._

_Your youngest and most honorable son,_

_Genji._

_Day 35._

_Father,_

_My body is still weak, but I am determined to go about this day as if it were any usual day. Genji has insisted that I should remain in bed for another day, but I have already reached the peak of my impatience. I must resume my daily tasks, lest my boredom grows. Genji has kept a careful eye on me throughout the day, and the Captain has given me jobs fit only for a boy half my age._

_But it is succeeding in keeping me active. And that is all I can ask for._

_The ship’s medic assures me that I will regain my strength by the end of the week. That will not come soon enough. Already I have spent 5 days restricted to my bunk, and those days were nothing but a hazed blur of semi consciousness. 2 more days of this will not break me, yet I grow tired from this sickness. I will not let my body betray me like this again._

_Still, perhaps there is something good that comes from this accursed bout of sickness. 5 days have passed by, meaning we are that much closer to reaching our destination. I cannot wait to reach landfall, for my bunk smells of disease and filth. When I retire for the night, the stench will haunt me until I escape into my dreams. And when I wake, it will be the first to greet me._

_None of the crew has caught this disease, so perhaps it was something that I ate. Or perhaps it was the sake from the Captain’s reserves. It matter not anymore, for we have run out. All that is left is the wine native to the Gibraltan Kingdom and ale from the Northern Isles. The wine is too bitter, and I find that I can lose myself in the ale too easily. Genji insists that I must refrain from drinking until I regain my health. Perhaps it’s best if I remain sober for the remainder of the journey as well._

_Worry not for me Father, I will regain strength soon and perform my duties as expected._

_Hanzo_

_Day 39._

_Father,_

_If the Captain has been counting the days correctly, then today ought to be the first day of Canciones de la Creación_ _. Or at least that is what the people of Gibraltan Kingdom call the Creator’s Arrival. I have been told that the literal translation is the Songs of Creation, which confuses me. It seems that the Gibraltan Kingdom has a complex series of songs and dances during their holiday festivals? In truth, I have never put much thought into how different our cultures might have been until this moment. Still, I accepted this new information in stride._

_However, Genji was much more open with his piqued curiosity, and has asked around the crew to tell him how they celebrate the Creator’s Arrival. The crew consists mostly with people native of the Gibraltan Kingdom, and they were more than eager to answer his unending questions. I must confess that I listened in as they all spoke together._

_What I learned fascinates me. They celebrate for 12 days instead of our 9. And they give celebration for how long the Creator waged his war against the Forgotten Ones rather than celebrating the authority of the Creator and his First Children. Each day is not dedicated to one deity like the festivals in Hanamura, but to all. It is peculiar._

_During the festivals, the streets in Port City are full of markets and goods, and the Royal Palace is open to the public. The royal court celebrates with the masses, for they believe that everyone is equal in the Creator’s eyes. One of the deckhands claims that she herself has danced with the Queen Regent. A story I do not believe, yet Genji does full heartedly._

_I realize you must know this already, but it surprises me that I do not. I have much to learn about our allies. This must be another reason why you have sent us on your behalf._

_But what has captivated me most about their strange celebrations are the songs sung at the turning of the night. Everyone, even those here aboard the ship, has memorized them, and they sing with their hearts. I had turned in for the night but two hours ago, only to climb back to the deck to hear the loud, mesmerizing chorus and harmonies of their hymns. I have never heard anything so beautiful in my life._

_I did not join them, for my skill in singing is lacking. However Genji attempted to, and was quickly praised by the deckhands for his eagerness to join. By the time the night had turned to early morning, Genji grew confident enough with the song to sing and join in their complex dances. I have never seen Genji smile so genuinely before, not since his coming of age ceremony. If only we had reached Gibraltan in time to see the festivals in their true form._

_These next 11 days will be full of merriment, as the Captain has promised. Yes, we will continue to work hard, but once the sun sets, the ship will come to life in ways I will never expect it to. I look forward to it. There is a chance I will not write until the end of the Creator’s Arrival; they are expecting me to join in the festivities and I must confess that they tire me, allowing for no time spent penning you these entries._

_Hanzo_

_Day 48._

_Father,_

_Someone had bought fireworks before we left the port in Hanamura. The Captain had just discovered them this morning in one of the deckhand’s private containers. Yet instead of punishing them, he has decided to use them for this night. As the days of celebration are coming to an end, it would be good for the crew’s morale to be treated to such an occasion. Out here on the Black Ocean, it would be good to be reminded of what awaited us when we reach shore._

_In all truth, the fireworks were nothing special. They were nothing like the concoctions Hanamura is able to afford. But still the crew went wild as they were fired into the night air. Between the hollering from their inebriated voices to the crackles of the fireworks, I could scarcely hear a thing. But it was enjoyable. Genji enjoyed it too. I had caught him sneaking up into the crow’s nest with one of the lady deckhands to watch from a better vantage point. Against my better judgment I refrained from stopping him, despite my fear that he would get hurt or make a fool out of himself, or out of the Shimada name._

_I spoil him, just like you. I couldn’t help it. This is truly the happiest I have seen my brother in a long time. I could not take this joy away from him. I know my brother, and the simplest reprimanding would have had him livid with me for the next few days. I would allow him this one violation._

_The fireworks ended quite quickly, as there hadn’t been much in stock. Still, it did not stop the deckhands from continuing their celebrations. I joined them this time, and I am ever grateful that the loud, boisterous voices covered up my off-key attempt to sing._

_Within the next couple days the celebrations will come to an end, and hopefully soon we will reach the end of our journey._

_Hanzo_

_Day 52._

_Father,_

_The celebrations have indeed come to an end, and now I am not the only man who wishes to be off this ship. Every man and woman aboard the ship is drained; even the most experienced deckhands yearn for the call of civilization. Almost two months have passed since our departure, yet it feels much longer than that. I spoke with the Captain about our estimated time of arrival, and was only given a shrug as a response. It would be soon, he assured me, but even he did not know when precisely. I grow tired of waiting._

_Until then I search the skies for seagulls. The birds, while made for the sea, are still creatures of the land. I know that once I spot them we will reach landfall shortly. I find that when I pause in my work, I look towards the western horizon, shielding my eyes from the oppressive sun searching for any sign of life._

_Genji often joins me, but mostly to remark on the nature of my impatience. In turn I have found that my patience for him is starting to waver. He has taken to acting like the common deckhands, professional while on duty but immature and rowdy during his free time. He is once again beginning to act like a man unworthy of our stature. Perhaps I have let him slack off in his duties for far too long. I must remember to remind him of our place when we reach landfall. I know that Genji will need to be on his best behavior in order to make the correct first impressions._

_On occasion I ask myself if he can remember much about Hanamura’s past relationship with the Gibraltan Kingdom. Does he remember what had been agreed upon when we were children? That he and their princess were to be wed once both came of age? I realize that it matters not anymore now that what has happened has happened, but even so._

_~~It is possible that Genji does remember? And maybe that this is why he acts like this. Like a fool of a child. This could be some sort of rebellious act to retaliate for how his life had already been decided for him when he was still a child no younger than 5. I do not believe that he is capable of realizing that what is in the past will remain in the past. Nothing can change what has happened, even now.~~ _

_I apologize for mentioning the whole affair, Father. I know it is not my place and my ramblings have gone on for long enough._

_Hanzo_

_Day 54._

_Father,_

_Finally, after endless days of searching, I have spotted a pair of seagulls. They were hanging high, just below the early morning clouds. My anticipation for our arrival has grown tenfold. I was not the only man to notice their existence; one of the deckhands had spotted them and shouted out to the others. With a few questions I shared with the navigator, I learned that we would reach land within the day._

_It cannot come soon enough._

_The food reserves are indeed low, as I had expected early on this journey. For the past few nights we have had little pickings. Water is being regulated and rationed out, and we have been unable to recover our reserves with rain water. I find myself parched throughout the day. Genji is much more verbal about his discomfort, yet his complaining does nothing to appease the Captain._

_In truth, I have grown accustomed to the grimy lifestyle of residing aboard a ship, and yet I yearn for a long bath. I feel relieved when I think about spending tonight in a bed in my own quarters, away from several dozen men and women._

_I have confronted the Captain about—_

“Hanzo!”

The sudden sound of Genji’s eager voice forced Hanzo’s hand to pause. The inked quill hovered over where he had stopped on his leather-bound notebook, and Hanzo sighed in contempt when a few drops of black ink fell haphazardly onto the paper. Still, Hanzo turned from his confiscated desk and up towards the entrance of the quarterdeck, where a suntanned and sweating Genji stood, beaming at him. Hanzo did not speak as he carefully set down his quill, giving Genji an inquisitive look.

“What is it, brother?” Hanzo calmly asked, despite his frustration from the sudden and unwanted distraction. Most times Genji knew better than to bother Hanzo while he wrote for their father. Hanzo did not like to be disturbed during these peaceful times, considering how rare it was to have a moment of solitude in such a cramped space.  “Does Captain Reynard require my presence?”

Genji answered him with a mirthful laugh before jumping down the steep steps with the ease and elegance of a feline. He stood there, still in his sweat drenched work clothes. The plain laced tunic clung to Genji’s arms and torso; Hanzo could smell the sharp mixture of perspiration and ocean spray off of it. Genji’s short hair had been pulled up from out of his eyes with a tied cloth, making his dark hair stick at unusual angles. Genji’s large eyebrows were brushing the bottom of the ragged cloth, he was smiling so much.

Genji quickly clasped a hand to Hanzo’s shoulder, shaking it slightly. “No, nothing like that dear brother. Come up to the top deck, you’ll see.”

This piqued Hanzo’s interest, and a rising suspicion bubbled throughout him. Could they have reached land already? While highly unlikely, Hanzo surely hoped so. He nodded to Genji as he closed his journal.

Hanzo took his time to pack away his writing supplies. Genji fervently waited for his brother, fidgeting in place as he watched Hanzo care for his belongings. However, soon Genji couldn’t wait any longer, and he abandoned Hanzo with an impatient sigh and the roll of his eyes. He quickly leapt back up the steps to the top deck with the same amount of energy Hanzo had first witnessed during the start of last week’s celebrations.

Hanzo shook his head, but nonetheless followed his younger brother up the stairs.

As Hanzo opened the door, he was greeted by the harsh spray of salted sea air, which felt too hot for his own liking. As soon as he was on top, the harsh sun baked into him, ignoring the light workman clothes he wore. Hanzo brought a hand up to his eyes to shield them from the bright sunlight, grimacing from being blinded so quickly. He could hear the lively voices of the ship’s deckhands as they talked excitedly. Their tones excited him as well.

At first, Hanzo joined the grouping deckhands by the starboard side of the ship. Due to his short physique, not that he would ever admit to it, he could barely see past most of their shoulders. Hanzo was able to just barely catch a glimpse at what had made everyone so excited. Just off the horizon was a slim stretch of green and brown, which barely poked over the choppy waves ahead.

Land.

A smile ghosted Hanzo’s lips. _The Creator be praised, we’ve finally made it._

“I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again,” one of the deckhands remarked, “ain’t that just the prettiest sight you’ll ever see.”

“Aye. It’ll be good to get some decent grub once we dock.” Another commented.

This statement was met with many others like it. Hanzo paid little attention to the other men and women; he wished to gain a better look at the land ahead of them. Without having to peer over dirty shoulders. Hanzo pushed his way through their bodies until he reached the ship’s railing, but even then he could barely see the specs of green.

“Yo, Hanzo!” Genji called out to him from high above.

Hanzo turned towards the sails above. There he found Genji easily enough. His brother had managed to climb halfway up the rigging and towards the crow’s nest by the time Hanzo had spotted him. Genji looked down at Hanzo before quickly waving an encouraging hand for him to join him. With some hesitance, Hanzo reluctantly made his way towards the mast and started to climb up as well.

Hanzo climbed the ship’s rigging easily enough, having done so countless times these past two months.

Genji helped him into the crow’s nest, laughing slightly as he noticed Hanzo’s disheveled appearance. Hanzo dared a disapproving scowl at his brother, but failed as the wind swept loose strands of hair into his face, resulting in Genji laughing even harder.

“You may want to think about tying your hair back, Hanzo. It has grown quite majestically these past couple months.” Genji said, a hint of a smirk tugging at his expression.

“Bah, I will get a trim once we reach Port City.” Hanzo muttered.

“Speaking of which, how do you enjoy this view?” Genji asked, his gaze turning towards the western horizon. He beckoned out to the world around them with open arms dramatically.

Hanzo followed Genji’s gaze. He turned around, and was greeted by the stretch of land he had seen before. Up here, Hanzo could see more of the ever growing coast. From the better angle, the shore did not seem so far off from their course. The two brothers stood there side by side, content to remain silent for the meantime.

Down below, Captain Reynard finally called the distracted crew to attention. They had a ship to steer and the winds to tame. If they were to reach Port City before dusk, they had to resume work. Hanzo looked down and caught Captain Reynard’s eyes. The older, graying man simply gave him a nod before returning to his usual position beside the ship’s wheel. Hanzo understood the motion.

The two Shimadas were allowed to slack off this one time in order to watch their first introduction of the great nation of Gibraltan.

Hour by hour, they grew ever closer to shore. Now, what were once vague specs of green and brown quickly morphed into discernible steep cliffs of suntanned stone. The cliffs ran across of the rocky coast, and up above laid a vast, dense forest that stretched on for miles inland. Hanzo had never seen anything like this before; Hanamura was a nation of mountainous islands, and was majestic in its own right. But this, it took his breath away.

Soon their ship travelled parallel with the coastal cliffs, heading south towards the peninsula that was home to the country’s capital. Genji turned to face the south, eager to catch his first sighting of Port City. Yet Hanzo continued to face northward, back at the towering forest that seemed to encompass the land for miles. And through the misty clouds Hanzo could spot the far off snow peaked mountain range that housed the northern boarders of Gibraltan. Without much consideration, Hanzo couldn’t help but think about visiting those mountains; even from here their shaping reminded him of the mountain range back home.

The mountains vanished in the atmosphere’s thick humidity, and dark storm clouds flitted over the blue sky in their place. Judging by the direction of the wind, the storm would not follow them, yet Hanzo still grew uneasy. He turned around and joined his brother on the other side of the crow’s nest. Genji was hunched over the side, stretching his aching muscles as he kept his eyes on the waters ahead.

Hanzo watched Genji for a few minutes before joining him. He relaxed his usual stiff posture and brought his arms down on the banister, allowing for his fingers to run against the stained wood absentmindedly. Again Hanzo’s hair fell into his face, and he blew the few strands fruitlessly. He caught Genji watching him, his brother’s telltale smirk the only clue he needed to know that he’s been watching the entire time.

“You know I was not joking about the hair tie. Here,” Genji paused as he pulled the tied cloth off of his head, “take this.”

Genji handed it to Hanzo, and the older brother only hesitated for a second before complying with a grunt. Hanzo tried his best to tie his hair back, but only managed to put half of it up in a bun. The rest of the strands fell around his ears, and they only continued to whip at his face. Judging by the sudden laugh from Genji, Hanzo’s expression must have matched his internal frustration.

“It looks good, Hanzo. It does. Really.” Genji said through another series of chuckles. He held up his hands in a sign of goodwill and early submission, but continued to grin.

“For some reason, I do not trust your judgment.” Hanzo retorted back, sending another scowl towards his brother.

Genji responded back with a shrug before running both hands through his greasy hair. Genji turned to face the waters again, squinting against the sun and its reflection. The sound of squawking seagulls pulled away Hanzo’s attention. They flew high above them, desperately searching for any opportunity to steal any food that had gone unattended on the ship’s deck. A few swooped down dangerously close to the crow’s nest, and Hanzo fought back the urge to swat at them.

Genji was much more brazen with his displeasure. He leaned over and swung an open palm at the attacking birds. Fortunately he managed to scare them off. Unfortunately, one of them had managed to defecate onto his shoulder in the process. Genji cried out as he felt the defecation plop onto the skin of his left shoulder, just barely missing the hem of his shirt.

At this Hanzo couldn’t help but laugh, which earned him Genji’s ire. Genji grumbled out a noise of disgust as he attempted to wipe away the mess with his sleeve. All he managed to do was smear it.

“Do not worry; we will have to change back into our own attire before we reach the city’s harbor.” Hanzo said with a shake of his head.

Genji frowned. He stared down at the tunic, holding it taut with both hands by the bottom hem. “I liked this shirt.”

“Genji, it is a torn rag.”

If Genji took offense to his remark, he did not show it. Instead Genji let out a small sigh before changing the conversation. “What do you think the city will be like? Will it be as grand as Hanamura?”

“I do not know. We have visited once before, but I cannot recall it. We were too young to remember much.” Hanzo said. He paused as he tried his best to remember those days, back when he was but a child and Genji a cooing toddler. Those memories were vague and foreign to him, like a long forgotten dream. “Father would know best; he’s visited Gibraltan several times.”

“And he’s never described it for you?” Genji pressed further. He turned around and leaned his back against the crow’s nest banister, crossing his arms as he looked into Hanzo’s eyes. He shook his head as he continued. “That doesn’t sound like Father.”

“And why haven’t you asked him? You are his son too, despite your tendency to not act like it.” Hanzo asked, raising a singular eyebrow in question.

Genji decisively ignored Hanzo’s imminent lecture for the moment. Instead he answered with a nonchalant shrug before rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Bah, I was too angry to speak with him before we departed. I didn’t want to ask Father because I still didn’t want to go with you.”

“Hmm. And do you still resent him for sending you along with me?”

“…I have not yet been convinced that this is all worth it.” Genji said, suddenly serious. “I miss Hanamura, and I dread the thought of being trapped in this place if I find that I hate it. Which brings me back to my question… did Father tell you what it is like?”

Hanzo hummed for a second, seemingly content with Genji’s answer. He paused for a brief moment, still in thought. “Very well. I did ask Father once, months before it was even settled that I go in his place.”

“And? What is it like, Hanzo?” Genji asked, his curiosity getting the better of him. Now Genji was beginning to look a tad impatient with his older brother. “You’ve left my imagination to wander with hopeless speculation, and I’m dying to know after all this time.”

“Heh. Why don’t you see for yourself?” Hanzo stated, amusement starting to spread across his face.

It took only a second for Hanzo’s words to register in Genji’s mind. Genji hastily turned around, just in time to catch the sun’s bright rays hitting the golden dome top of a lone lighthouse. The large, looming tower stood alone on a small island, its pale white bricks highly contrasting the light orange stones surrounding it. A couple happened to be walking beside the lighthouse, small and insignificant compared to the sheer size of the building, and they waved to the ship as they sailed past.

Now Hanzo’s attention shifted past the grand and welcoming lighthouse. Beyond it was the sprawling capital of Gibraltan. The city took his breath away. It was massive, sprawling out into and over the coastal shoreline. The buildings were all similar to the lighthouse they had passed: built with sun-bleached stone which were accented with red tile roofing. Some of the more impressive buildings were adorned with golden domed roofs. There was little vegetation scattered throughout the city, but enough to remember the green wilderness that lay just outside the city limits.

But what had impressed Hanzo the most was the composition of the city. The further inland the city went, the more it travelled up the same cliffs Hanzo had spotted much earlier. The city had been carved, sculpted even, into the large land mass, creating a three tiered succession of districts.

Below, by the edge of the ocean were the markets, and also the beating heart of the city. Not to his surprise, the populace was out and about, working, laughing, and enjoying life. From here, Hanzo could see flags and banners of red, white, and gold that still hung from the festival celebrations. They had not been taken down, the civilians still rejoicing in the beloved Creator. The city’s hectic markets stretched over a large, magnificent bridge that encompassed the mouth of a nearby flowing river, and out into the lowlands where farmers worked the land. The city bled out into smaller towns and hamlets the further inland the road went.

Next, the homes to the middle class, which had been carved into the cliffs. At first glance, they were not impressive to look at, being the most nondescript part of the city.  But with another look over, Hanzo was able to spot amazing architecture that he hadn’t noticed before. The district consisted of large buildings that stretched on and shifted with the land. Their roofs acted as roads, walkways, and even stairs for the populace, as the ground below was too steep to use.

And up atop the cliffs was the last district, where the tallest and most influential buildings were located, home to the Clergy and the aristocrats. It seemed all the structures were inlaid with sparkling gold that reflected the waning sun. Hanzo could just barely distinguish an enormous Chapel and bell tower poking into the horizon, dedicated to the Creator and His Children. And there were gardens, so different from the ones back in Hanamura, but just as vast and elegant.

And of course, in the middle of it all stood the white castle, home to Her Majesty and the royal court. The Stone Palace. The golden domes that adorned the Palace shone like beacons, bringing light throughout the entire city with the sun’s last dying rays. It was just like Father had described to him, yet even his father’s words could never do justice.

“This is nothing like Hanamura.” Genji spoke, his voice almost a whisper.

Genji’s soft-spoken voice broke Hanzo’s spell, sending him back into reality. They were still here aboard the ship, sailing into the heart of the city’s harbor, and not within the city itself.  And even when they’d eventually dock, they still had to prepare for their exploit into the city. But soon, soon they’d be there.

Hanzo finally turned to face his brother, who was still staring up at the upper district, his eyes full of wonder. The concern Genji had voiced moments earlier had disappeared within an instant. Just like with Hanzo, Port City had managed to ensnare his brother with its dazzling beauty. Perhaps for the first time, Hanzo thought, Genji did not regret joining him on this journey.

“No. It is not.” Hanzo nodded in agreement, faintly clasping a hand onto Genji’s shoulder.

Genji returned the gesture, swinging an arm around his brother, drawing him closer. Genji grinning from ear to ear while he did so.

“I have a feeling, brother, that we’re in for quite an adventure.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for mentions of slight suicidal thoughts in this chapter. Nothing is acted upon, but I wanted to warn y'all anyways.

The tub’s water had slowly turned tepid over the hour, yet Genji did not care. He ignored the small chill on the nape of his neck, where damp hair tickled his skin, and he sank deeper into the drawn bath.  He brought his knees to his chest and rested a hand against them. Genji quickly inspected his fingertips, only to find that they were thoroughly wrinkled, but he also found that he did not care. He did not dare move, lest he disturb the temporary tranquility he had made for himself.

Genji had spent two months without a thorough wash; the sweat and grime of the ocean had been like a second skin during that time. It felt refreshing to finally be clean. And the Creator be damned, he was going to enjoy this for as long as possible. He just had to relax.

_Relax_.

Still, the dragon within him stirred ever so slowly. It recognized his master’s anxiousness, despite how much he tried to deny it.

Genji ran a hand through his damp hair before resting his head against the brim of the tub. He closed his eyes and let out a long breath. A shiver traveled up his spine, the cold water finally getting to him.

Relax, just relax.

Last night he had slept in a real bed, not his own bed granted, but Genji hadn’t had the energy to argue last night when he and Hanzo searched desperately for an open Inn. And sleeping so soundly was a luxury Genji would never take for granted ever again. Aboard that ship, Genji had forgotten how much privacy meant to him. And solid land. And _clean_ sheets. Oh Creator, he had forgotten the feeling of silky fabric against his bare skin.

His first morning in Gibraltan had slowly drifted by, and Genji was thankful for that. He spent hours just lying in bed, enjoying the finely woven sheets and fluffed up pillows, staring out the broad windows as he watched the sun rise in the sky. No thoughts disturbed him as he carefully listened to the far off sounds of the lively city. There was not much noise up here in the top district of Port City, but every so often he would hear the voices of the rich and wealthy as they went about their day, talking about matters that he did not know or care about.

Breakfast had been a surprise, with foods Genji had never eaten before; their flavors exotic to him, yet somewhat enticing and addicting. Hanzo had joined him for the meal, already freshly bathed. And while they shared tea together, Hanzo discussed their duties for the day, sounding too much like Father. Genji only partially listened; the only detail he could clearly remember was their meeting with the Royal Court later today.

Being reminded of his duties had set him on edge. And now Genji was here, trying his best to relax in a cold bath, without the strength or drive to crawl out and dry himself off.

There was a slight tapping at the door, and Genji opened his eyes in irritation. With a grumble he sat up and pivoted his body, leaning against the tub as he stretched a finger out towards the door’s handle. The washroom was small, and the door was only a few feet away, but it still took great skill to work its lock and handle from this position. After a few attempts Genji opened the door before returning to the relative warmth of the bathwater.

Unsurprisingly, it was Hanzo that stood in the doorframe. His older brother was already dressed in his formal clothing, his hair properly seen to with a fresh, fine cut. Hanzo side eyed Genji for only the briefest moment before shaking his head with a sigh.

“Brother, you’ve been soaking for over an hour.” Hanzo informed him, quickly looking towards the ceiling in his best attempt at avoiding seeing parts of his brother he would rather not see.

“Yes Hanzo, I know.” Genji said with a small smirk, slightly teasing his older brother.

Hanzo’s face twitched in slight anger at Genji’s tone, yet didn’t raise his voice. “You need to get out. The Queen is expecting our arrival at any moment.”

“And why should I go? Father assigned _you_ to be ambassador. Not me.” Genji pointed out. Again the dragon stirred beneath his skin, sensing Genji’s slight irritation. “I was dragged along just to keep you company.”

“That is not the case, and _you_ know it.” Hanzo said, a frown appearing at the corner of his mouth. “Father sent you with me for the distinct purpose to learn how our allies rule. For you to gain the experience you need before you take up your awaiting position in our own Court.”

A second passed as Genji processed his brother’s words.

“Hmm? What was that? Suddenly I cannot hear you, Hanzo.” Genji grumbled as he sank lower into the tub until only his eyes and the tips of his ears were above water.

“You are being a child, Genji. Act your age.” Hanzo stated through a disappointed sigh.  When Hanzo saw that Genji had no intention of acting his age he changed tactics, but not before muttering a quick chastisement under his breath. “ _You’re a fool of a brother_. Fine. But if you do not accompany me out of your duty, do it out of respect for Queen Amari. You were to be her son-in-law, remember?”

Genji’s mischievous spirit quickly died with the mentioning of the Queen and the implication of her long lost daughter. Genji sat back up, a somber expression resting on his face. He did not know what he felt for the Queen and the missing Princess. Sometimes he had felt rage, anger for the people who had at once decided his fate when he was only three years old. Sometimes Genji felt guilt for feeling so angry at them. But most of the time, he felt nothing.

Still, Hanzo had made his point.

Genji let out a small sigh before finally standing up. The slosh of water was the only warning he had before the air hit his wet skin. A trembling chill travelled up his spine, and Genji felt himself start to shake. But he ignored it as he stepped out of the bath and grabbed a towel. Once he had properly covered himself, Hanzo once again turned to face him.

“I called for our carriage. They’ll be here within the hour. Please try to be ready before then, Genji.” Hanzo said tersely, his face solemn and betraying no other emotion.

Choosing to refrain from speaking, Genji nodded before he exited the small washroom. Hanzo followed close behind. As his brother closed the door behind them, Genji made his way through the inn room they had rented for the night. Genji quickly found his travelling trunk and opened it. He found one of his finer kimonos and gently laid the fabrics out on his unmade bed.

Hanzo left the room as Genji quickly toweled himself off. His hair was still damp, clinging to his head and neck as he dressed himself. Once Genji had been properly dressed he returned to his towel and tried his best to dry his hair. After quickly running a comb through his hair Genji felt as prepared as he ought to be.

Genji found his brother out in the hall of the inn. He felt Hanzo’s eyes inspect him before finally nodding in approval. He had met Hanzo’s expectations, if that truly meant something.

“If there was time, I would subjugate your hair to a trimming. But we are already running late.” Hanzo said as he eyed Genji’s still slightly damp hair.

_Thank the Creator that we’re running short on time_ , Genji thought.

As they exited the building, Genji felt the rush of the warm morning air. Again he was reminded that this place was not like home, a tropical climate nothing like Hanamura. The heat was uncalled for, and it did little but torment Genji. And yet, the sun had not reached its peak in the sky.

“Will it always be this hot here?” Genji couldn’t help but ask.

“Perhaps.” Hanzo mused. “I doubt it will get much colder during this coming winter. We ought to get used to it, Genji. We’ll be here for at least a year.”

“A hopeless cause, if you ask me.” Genji muttered under his breath.

Hanzo shook his head, informing Genji that he had heard him. Hanzo led them away from the inn and towards the stables. With a quick couple turns of his head, Hanzo searched for their called carriage, and frowned when he realized it had not arrived. Hanzo’s expression turned to one of impatience, and Genji let out a small, yet still exasperated sigh.

“Remind me what we are doing today, brother?” Genji asked, drawled out in a bored tone of voice.

Hanzo let out a frustrated huff of air before meeting Genji’s eyes. “We are to meet with Her Majesty Queen Ana Amari. We are to be on the best of our behavior, and accept any duties that she has drawn out for us. And Father expects us to represent our people, be it acting as ambassadors, as soldiers, or trade partners. Whatever is necessary.”

“Soldiers? We are to fight?” Genji asked, his head snapping attentively. The confusion was almost palpable in his voice.

“Of course. Have you forgotten that we are at war with the Omnics?”

“I’m not stupid Hanzo; I haven’t forgotten. But, forgive me if I am wrong, but if we fight, there is a chance we could both die.”

“That is to be expected. And we would die honoring our Father and our Nation.”

The anxiousness from this morning returned with a vengeance. Genji could feel his skin crawl as the dragon within squirmed from the onslaught of feelings. Genji did his best to quiet the spirit down. But Hanzo, the ever observant bastard, caught the ever so subtle shift of magic in Genji’s eyes and how he had subconsciously rubbed at the tattoo that sprawled across his right arm.

“ _Calm yourself, Genji. Do not let others see you lose control. These people here, they do not know, and will not care to understand, our talents_.” Hanzo said in a hushed voice, speaking in their native tongue. He reached out and grabbed Genji’s arm, drawing him into a hug as if to calm his brother down.

Genji grew angry with himself. He allowed himself to slip up in front of Hanzo, but he nodded as he tried his best to compose his emotions. A few moments passed, and then he nodded to Hanzo to release him. Genji averted his eyes as Hanzo quickly inspected him, but he did not miss the stiff nod Hanzo gave him.

Hanzo turned away, only to spot a horse drawn carriage trotting towards them. There was the brief, barely noticeable smile on his face, and then it was gone. Replaced with a frown.

“Our carriage has arrived. But it has not arrived alone.” Hanzo spoke again.

That caught Genji’s attention. Genji’s eyes travelled past his brother until he noticed the strange man beside their called carriage. The man had dismounted his steed, and was caring to the armored white horse by his side, brushing its coat affectionately as he muttered soft, kind words to the animal.

Some would say that Genji was not as observant as his brother, but that would be incorrect, and a grave mistake. Genji knew he acted aloof and uncaring about his duties and family legacy, but only a few knew that if something were truly important, Genji would be just as dedicated as the rest of his family. Strangers had proven to be important in the past, and had also proven to be a constant danger to the Shimadas. Be it failed assassination attempts or greedy men looking to go through Genji to gain control of his Father, Genji had always known that people who were not Shimadas were dangerous.

Because of this, Genji had a somewhat uncanny knack of reading people.  Sometimes he was even better at reading people than Hanzo.

The man who stood beside the carriage was much older than both Genji and Hanzo, perhaps older than both their years combined. With a pale complexion, Genji could only guess that the man had originated from somewhere from the Northern Isles. His hair, which had most likely been a bright blonde at one point in his younger years, was slowly starting to grey. A bright set of blue eyes had quickly looked over Genji and Hanzo, contrasting the tired bags which hung underneath.

He wore decorated but heavy steel armor, which gleamed in the bright sunlight. A tempered sword hung by his hip, and he held a shield in one hand, which had the Royal Crest painted on it. A blue hawk surrounded by a blazing yellow sun, holding in one claw a fish, and in the other a jeweled necklace.

Even Genji could recognize that this man was a royal guard, and a seasoned veteran of the War. Hanzo recognized it as well. The stranger stepped forward and then bowed before them. As he returned to an upright position, he did his own quick look over the two brothers.

“The Royal dignitaries I presume?” He spoke in a rough voice, steeped with age and experience. And perhaps from shouting too much. “From Hanamura?”

“Yes, and you are?” Hanzo spoke up, bowing himself, but only slightly.

“Captain Jack Morrison, Knight Captain of the Royal Guard.” He introduced himself. “Here to escort you to the Stone Palace, under direct orders from Her Majesty Queen Ana.”

“A pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am Shimada Hanzo, Crown Prince of Hanamura, and this is my brother, Shimada Genji.” Hanzo said, motioning to Genji. Genji subtly bowed his head to this Jack Morrison, but he never took his eyes off of the stranger. “We are here to act in our Father’s absence.”

“A pleasure.” Captain Morrison echoed Hanzo’s sentiment. He then turned and motioned to the carriage behind them. “Perhaps we should continue this conversation while we make our way to the Stone Palace. Queen Ana has been expecting you two for quite some time.”

“I agree. Let’s be on our way.” Hanzo said.

The coachman had already loaded their luggage onto the back of the carriage, and was now patiently waiting for them to board.  As Hanzo and Genji climbed into the carriage, Captain Morrison mounted his horse. The coachman whisked his reigns, and the carriage began to move forward. Captain Morrison remained at the carriage’s side, the horse trotting as the man turned to face the two brothers.

They traveled in silence for a few minutes, allowing for Genji to observe the Upper District in the light, unlike last night. People noticed them as they passed by, and a few would wave to them. Genji refrained from waving back, content to watching as they realized they were the expected visitors from Hanamura. But eventually his attention shifted back to the Knight Captain.

Captain Morrison noticed his prying gaze.

“You know, I’ve met Emperor Shimada Sojiro, many years ago. He’s a good man.” Captain Morrison stated. “A powerful warrior too…”

Captain Morrison’s voice drifted off as he returned to his thoughts. His eyes grew unfocused, as if he was somewhere else in that moment. But only for the briefest of moments.

“Now, I must ask,” He spoke up again, “have you been sent to act as only dignitaries, or are you also here to help with the war effort?”

“We are here to help in any way we can.” Hanzo said, albeit somewhat hesitantly. Hanzo risked a glance at Genji, but only to see how his brother had faired with this question. “When we left Hanamura, our Father realized that there was a strong chance we would be needed in the War. Both my brother and I are prepared if that is what we are called for.”

Captain Morrison was nodding his head. “Good, good. We need any help we can get.”

Those words did not sit well with Genji.

“Is it truly bad here?” Genji finally spoke up.

“The Omnics aren’t’ beating down our doors, if that’s what you’re asking. We’ve been able to hold them at our borders, but frankly that’s all we’ve been capable of for the past couple years.” Captain Morrison answered, his expression stiffening with a frown. Genji could see the concern in his old face, and just the hint of doubt and guilt he’d never show those under his command. “I don’t know what it’s like in Hanamura, but it must be better than here.”

Hanzo let out a tired sigh that reminded Genji too much of Father. “We will see, in time.”

They spent the rest of the short journey in silence. The Stone Palace crept ever closer as the carriage traveled through the massive and elegant gardens surrounding it. At the end of the gardens stood the main gain, which was guarded by two towering bronze statues, one of an aging, bearded man wielding a sword and shield, and another of an armored, young woman aiming a long bow. Next to the two statues stood several guards, patrolling the perimeter of the Palace. Captain Morrison called out to the guards stationed there, and they opened it for their captain. With a quick salute to his men, Captain Morrison galloped ahead to lead the carriage to their destination.

Soon they reached the front steps of the palace, where a battalion of armored men and women waited for their arrival. As the carriage finally rolled to a halt, the guards stood at attention, raising their swords for the royal arrival. Genji quickly climbed out of the carriage, followed by his brother. Genji couldn’t help but inspect the men and women, all of whom were refusing eye contact with him.

“At ease, men.” Captain Morrison ordered. They guards finally sheathed their swords. Captain Morrison turned to one before patting them on the shoulder. “Your squad is finally shaping up, Lacroix. With another month of training, I believe these recruits will be ready for action.”

Genji almost faltered at that slip of information. Ah, so they were recruits? Perhaps that’s why they would not look Genji in the eye. They were a bunch of nervous young men and woman, perhaps even younger than himself.

“I would hope so.” This new guard said with a smile, and with an accent Genji had never heard before. He found that he couldn’t place its origin. “I’ve never had a group so young. But they’re fast learners, and eager to serve their country.”

“That’s why they’re yours, Gérard.” Captain Morrison said in a low tone of voice; Genji had to strain his hearing just to hear his words. He let out a small cough, and his volume returned to normal. “Have them return to their duties, I’ll join up with you after I speak with Her Majesty.”

“ _Oui_ , that I’ll do. In the meantime, if you so happen to come across my wife, give her my regards for me.” This man, Lacroix, said as he saluted his friend.

“You have my word.” Morrison said through a kind smile. “Now get out of here. I want them sweating by the time I come to check on them.”

“You heard your captain, move out!” Lacroix ordered, turning to his soldiers.

With that, there was a large rush as the recruits surged forward and made their way towards what must have been the barracks of the palace. This man, Lacroix, waited behind as he observed those under his command. He nodded, praising them without voicing his satisfaction. And then he followed the soldiers, whistling a tune Genji was not familiar with.

Hanzo watched as Lacroix disappeared around the bend before he turned towards the Knight Captain.

“Do you usually greet foreign dignitaries with fresh recruits, Captain Morrison?” Hanzo asked, the judgment in his voice was just shy of being palpable.

Morrison shook his head, either oblivious to Hanzo’s scrutiny or just choosing to ignore it. “No, but that’s because we usually don’t have people as important as you two arrive here very often. It’s good to have fresh recruits practice their composures. Now, if you’ll follow me…”

Captain Morrison led them up the front steps and eventually into the Stone Palace’s main hall. As soon as Genji stepped inside, he knew this place was nothing like his home in Hanamura. Shimada Castle in Hanamura was several thousand years old, and more a fortress or an ancient temple than anything. It had sprawling gardens and high outer walls with watch towers, paper windows with ancient, masterful created décor centuries older than Genji.

The Stone Palace was incredibly different. Its main hall was quite high, compromised of two sets of floors with polished white stone and extremely detailed stained glass. Chandeliers of sparkling white gems and shiny metals hung low, dazzling the light inside. The room was quite spare itself, save for the smooth, polished columns holding the high ceilings. But this only spoke of the great banquets and festivals that were held here for the entire populace. At the far side of the room stood two grand staircases that led up to the second floor, and towards the eastern and western wings of the palace. And far ahead, on the far back wall of the ground floor, Genji could see the open grand archway that led to the throne room.

Captain Morrison led them through the empty main hall and past the two staircases, their footsteps echoing in the otherwise quiet space. As they grew ever closer to the throne room, Genji could heir a few voices faintly conversing with one another. It was impossible to hear their words clearly, but he could hear who was speaking. There, the booming laugh of a boisterous man. A woman’s voice, rough with age but still full of merriment and quick of wit. And just barely Genji could hear another woman’s voice, quiet and reserved.

As they approached, the guards that held position at the entrance of the throne room stood at attention, intentionally signaling their arrival. Immediately the voices within paused their conversation. Captain Morrison’s approach led Hanzo and Genji into the throne room, and Genji searched to find Her Majesty.

The Throne Room was grand, just like the hall they had just passed through. Another pair of chandeliers hung from the high ceilings. Long, detailed tapestries hung the height of the smooth walls. Ahead was the throne, large and jeweled. Behind that was a clear glass wall, leading into what must have been a botanical conservatory, as if this place didn’t have enough gardens already.

And there was Her Majesty. She sat on her throne, wearing a pristine deep blue dress. It was quite plain, in perspective of the jeweled and embroidered throne she sat upon. There were a few jewels upon her neck, and she wore a blue head veil underneath her simple crown. There was only a hint of graying black hair that poked out, covering up one of her eyes.

In retrospect, the tattoo surrounding her visible eye was unexpected.

The queen smiled when she saw both Genji and Hanzo approach. She rose from her seat and took a few steps towards Captain Morrison. The man who had stood beside her, armor clad and towering over Her Majesty, set his large hammer of a weapon down and crossed his arms, watching the two brothers closely. Captain Morrison bowed before Queen Ana, kneeling down to one knee.

“Your Majesty. The guests from Hanamura have arr—”

“Honestly Jack, get up off the floor. You’ll get your uniform all dirty.” The Queen cut off the Guard Captain with a wave of her hand. Her words were sharp and quick of wit, yet she smiled at Morrison as if he was her oldest friend. And perhaps he was.

Captain Morrison did as he was ordered, bowing his head slightly as he blushed in what must have been embarrassment. “Sorry, ma’am.”

The Queen let out a small chuckle before turning her attention to Hanzo and Genji. Immediately Hanzo stiffened and turned to bow before her, and Genji was quick to follow suit. After a few seconds both brothers rose, only for Genji to see that Queen Ana was inspecting them, her brown eyes sparkling with something akin to curiosity, and somehow regret.

“You must be Sojiro’s boys.” Was all she said, short of the tact both brothers expected from her.

Seconds passed as Hanzo struggled to find the right words to reply to that. No one noticed except for Genji.

“Greetings, Your Majesty.” Hanzo spoke evenly, in the same practiced manner the Elders had drilled him to speak with years ago. “Our father sends us with his regards, and regrets that he could not arrive himself.”

“In time I’ll forgive him. Now come, sit and we’ll talk.” The Queen said with a small smirk. She beckoned for the two brothers to follow her before turning and returning to the throne. “Would you two like some tea?”

Genji stood there in shock for a few solid seconds, gob smacked. This was… not how most monarchs acted. Or were expected to act. In fact, if someone had spoken to Father like this, they would not have escaped without punishment. And to travel almost two months to see that the ruler of an entire country was acting like… like a sassy grandmother was unexpected.

Quickly Genji risked a glance at Hanzo, only to see an expression Genji had only rarely seen. Surprise, and maybe exasperation. However Hanzo was quick to smooth his face into an expressionless façade as Queen Ana turned around to face them again.

“Oh, where are my manners.” She said softly to herself. She then waved a hand towards the towering, intimidating man Genji had noticed before. “My boys, this is the Royal Protector, and a dear old friend, Sir Reinhardt Wilhelm.”

The man she motioned to lit up with a grin, tugging at the scar that rested over a blinded, clouded eye. His hair was a long, light grey, and not dissimilar to a lion’s mane. He let out a booming laugh, and then he kneeled before the two princes.

“And I must say, it is an honor to make your acquaintance!” The man said, almost shouting the words. Again Genji noticed the accent, and how different it was from everyone else he met. Sir Reinhardt spent a second getting himself up off the ground and then returned to Queen Ana’s side. “It is my job to protect the Queen with my life, so I’m sure we’ll meet many times during your stay in our home.”

“An… honor.” Hanzo said, struggling to find the correct words yet again.

“And today we are joined by the Countess Amélie Lacroix, my advisor.” Queen Ana continued, motioning towards an occupied armchair Genji hadn’t noticed since his entrance into the Throne Room.

To his left sat a woman in a grand dress, perhaps more grand and intricate than the queen’s. It was patterned with a white silver floral print with enough ribbons and ruffles to satisfy any tailor. Pearls were adorned around her neck and within her dark hair, which had been done up in an intricate curl that Genji had never seen before. Her eyes were a haunting hazel that never left Hanzo, and Genji had to wonder how long this woman had sat in silence, watching and judging their arrival. Not for the first time since Genji’s arrival to Port City, he felt uneasy.

And Amélie Lacroix said nothing, unlike Sir Reinhardt, and did nothing but give a short incline of her head.

“There’s more of my court somewhere within the Palace, but we can hunt them down later. Now please sit, we have much to discuss.” Queen Ana said, pleased now that introductions were done and over with.

Morrison found a few spare chairs and pushed them forward for the two brothers before sitting down in another. Now only Reinhardt remained standing. Beside the throne sat a table, and on the table were a teapot and a pair of teacups. Slowly Queen Ana poured steaming tea into the cups and then offered them towards Genji and Hanzo.

Hesitantly Genji leaned forward to take it, unsure of whether to say something. This was not how he expected meeting a foreign monarch would be like. He took the cup in both hands, feeling the warmth that it radiated, and then turned to Hanzo. Hanzo had already taken his, but made no move to drink from it.

“Before we get into logistics, tell me, how was the trip?” Queen Ana politely asked.

“For the most part, it was uneventful. We were blown off course fairly early in our travels, but had managed to make up the lost time with help from the wind and currents.” Hanzo reported, still stiffly holding the teacup in both hands.

The Queen nodded at this information. And then she turned to look at Genji, an act that surprised him. Genji had yet to speak, and he had wished to keep it that way; Hanzo was always better when it came to this sort of stuff.

“And how about you? Genji, is it?” She asked.

“Uh…” Genji hesitated. And for this, he could feel Hanzo glare daggers at him silently. By the Creator, he was already making a fool of himself, and it was only his first day in Port City. He tried his best to recover, and then nodded “Yes, Genji. The trip was… long. And I found that I did not have the stomach for seafaring travel.”

“Ah, I’m the same way myself. I’m better now in my older age, but when I was your age I couldn’t spend more than a few hours sailing the ocean.” Queen Ana said, chuckling to herself as she sipped at her tea. “That’s why it is so rare of me to visit Hanamura. I grow too sick for those months.”

“I’m sure Father would understand.” Genji said carefully, unsure of what else to say to her.

“Yes, I’m sure he will.” Hanzo added, interjecting seemingly to lead the conversation to somewhere he’ll be able to control it. “Now, Your Majesty, can you pl—”

“Please, call me Ana.”

“… Ana. Could you please tell us about what you will need from us during our stay here.” Hanzo stated.

“Yes, your duties. I’m sure your father had some lined out for you before you departed.” Ana said, pausing to take another sip of her tea. “You’ll be performing many tasks while here in my city; mainly appearing in court when it’s called into session and assisting with the other members who reside here. But you’ll also need to make your presence known to my people, build relations from the ground up. But most of all, we’ll need you when it comes to defending our borders.”

“Yes, your Knight Captain mentioned something along those lines.” Hanzo said.

“Did he now?” Ana said, raising a single visible eyebrow at Captain Morrison.

Captain Morrison was barely fazed by Ana’s scrutiny. He did cough into his hand before speaking, however. “That I did. I need to know if these two can hold their own in a battle. I don’t want the blood of two younglings on my hands, Ana. There’s too much of that as it is.”

Ana didn’t respond right away. Instead she turned to look at both brothers again. This time her expression had sobered up, no longer the carefree look she had once used liberally. She stared down both Genji and Hanzo in a matter that unsettled Genji so much that he could feel the Dragon stirring underneath his skin. He couldn’t help but fidget from her the weight of her gaze. Surprisingly Hanzo did as well, and Genji saw how he tried to discreetly scratch at the tattoo on his left arm.

Ana caught the motion, and she briefly saw the ends of Hanzo’s tattoo that surrounded his mostly covered wrist. She eyed it before returning to look at Captain Morrison.

“These men are Shimadas, just like Master Sojiro. They are much stronger than you think, Jack. And they should be treated with the respect they have earned.” Ana said, her tone of voice dead serious.

Suddenly Genji had the stinking suspicion that Ana knew about the Dragons. Genji couldn’t help to reach for his right arm to rub at his tattoo.

As if to prove Genji’s suspicions, Ana added softly.  “The Shimada’s have powers we’ll never understand, and they are rare to share it outside of their own lands. And hopefully we’ll never have to see them use it.”

Hanzo let out a small huff of air. “Then I assume it’s pointless to ask you if you know of the Dragons.”

“Yes, although I care not to know too much about it. Your father visited Gibraltan in his younger years; he couldn’t have been older than you are now, Hanzo. The war back then was much more vicious, and we were losing. If it wasn’t for Sojiro, and his… _abilities_ , there would not be a Gibraltan today.” Ana said.

“And it was such a sight! It was in that battle that I lost the sight of this eye.” Reinhardt chimed in, taking the advantage to point at the eye that had been marred. “Oh, the things that that warrior did, it terrified everyone in the battlefield, Omnic and Human alike. I’m just glad he was on our side.”

Hanzo thought for a brief moment, and Genji knew he was debating on how much to tell them about their ways. The Shimada’s Bond with the Dragons was sacred, and all who shared that bond were sworn to secrecy due to its unconventional ways. Anything magical or mythical was considered evil and demonic under the eyes of the Creator, and the Bond with the Dragons just barely crossed the line of heresy. 

If the common populace discovered the Bond, it would not end well for the Shimada line.

“Both my brother and I,” Hanzo started, talking slowly as if to choose his words wisely, “are… gifted like our father. We have been trained extensively, and understand that if there is a need for our talents, then we will use them to aid Gibraltan. But please consider, we will only use the Dragons in otherwise hopeless circumstances.”

Ana considered Hanzo’s words, saying nothing for several moments. Genji could see their eyes locked together. Finally, Ana nodded her head stiffly, and then Hanzo smiled. They had come to an agreement.

“I’ll make sure my Commanders keep that in mind when we move to battle.” Ana said.

“Are you so certain that another battle will soon be upon us?” Hanzo asked, finally abandoning his teacup and setting it down on a table beside him. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his lap as he held his chin in thought. “Are the Omnics here that predictable?”

“We’re fairly sure. Roughly, we only see a regiment of Omnics every few months, poking at our defenses. But sometimes they’ll show up sooner than expected. Sometimes much later. We have a few scouts and rangers posted along the northern and western borders, watching for any malicious movement; they’re our first line of defense.” Morrison said. “It’s been almost 3 months since our last battle, and at this point some of us are getting a little anxious.”

“We’re expecting an updated report sometime within the week.” Ana added. “And even if the Omnics haven’t shown themselves, we’re still preparing a campaign. Perhaps if we can catch them by surprise, we can push the Omnics back and gain some of our lost land.”

Genji couldn’t help but ask. “You’ve lost land? Is it really this bad?”

“We have been fighting this War for as long as Gibraltan has been formed.” Reinhardt said. “We’re still a young country, and we lost our best defenses ever since we rebelled against our mother nation over a century ago.”

“And now they watch as you struggle, hoping to weaken you before occupying your land once more.” Hanzo said, connecting the dots.

“Exactly.”

Everyone turned, for it was Countess Amélie Lacroix that spoke. Her words were not harsh, but still incredibly serious. Now that all eyes were on her, she averted her gaze towards the botanical garden, as if suddenly shy. Still, she continued speaking with great conviction. “If we want to survive, we will need to find a way to stop the Omnics, once and for all.”

“That is a tall order, and one I’m sure my brother and I are incapable of finding by ourselves. If we knew the Omnics’ weakness, Hanamura would already be freed from their presence.”

“I’m not expecting a miracle from you two. Just your support in our war campaigns.” Morrison said. “That’s all we can ask for.”

“You have my bow, and my brother’s sword.” Hanzo said with a stiff incline of his head.

A moment of solemn silence passed. War was never one of Genji’s favorite subjects, despite the constant need of it just for survival’s sake. The Omnics were everywhere in this world, and were a difficult plague to eradicate. They have proven to be a competent enemy since the dawn of recorded history.

The Omnic War was just a simple fact in life. But Genji had never fought against them before.

“Enough about War. There will be time to discuss this when a ranger arrives with their update.” Ana said. “You two must still be recuperating from your trip. I’ll have Jack show you to your new quarters. And then we can meet up again for lunch with the rest of my court.”

At this, Captain Morrison stood up. He dusted off his armor and then motioned for the two brothers to follow him. As both Genji and Hanzo stood up, they bowed before the Queen once again out of respect. And surprisingly, so did Countess Amélie.

“Please, allow me to do this your grace.” Amélie spoke. “My quarters are in the same wing as theirs, and it would be good for them if I give them a tour.”

Ana said nothing, but nodded her head in acknowledgement. Captain Morrison sat back down, seemingly happy for the small respite Amélie had granted him. With the click of unseen heels, Amélie made her way out of the Throne Room without looking back to make sure that she was being followed. Genji shared a hesitant look with Hanzo before both of them followed the woman.

Behind them, Genji could hear Captain Morrison striking up a conversation with Reinhardt and Ana. Perhaps they were thankful for the privacy they now shared alone.

Amélie led the two brothers up one of the grand staircases and made her way towards the Eastern Wing. The wing was long, and seemed to stretch forward for several meters before it took a left turn. As they walked forward, they passed by a large opening towards a balcony, where Genji could see the Black Ocean over the steep cliffs. He heard the soft call of far off seagulls, but otherwise they walked in silence.

If this was what Amélie considered a tour, it was a very quiet one.

Amélie walked ahead of them, arms held behind her back in a loose grasp of her dress. She only looked behind towards them once, giving them a silent and severe look. Amélie stopped suddenly, placing a hand on the doorknob of a door they were about to pass. She looked up to Hanzo as she opened the door.

“Prince Hanzo, this will be your quarters.” Amélie stated as she walked inside.

Genji and Hanzo followed her inside to find a large bedroom. It was mostly white in décor, and had very little in the way of furniture. There was a large ornate bed, so different from Hanzo’s bed at home. The bed was divided off from the rest of the room with a patterned divider, and Genji poked around to see that the other side was a study. Complete with a desk and several full bookcases, it would be perfect for Hanzo to write letters for their father. To the side was a door, which mostly likely led to a private bathing room. And on the far side of the wall was a large door leading to a smaller, private balcony.

Amélie waved a hand towards a bell and string that had been placed beside the door. “Ring this and one of the palace servants will come to attend you.”

As Hanzo thanked Amélie for showing the way, Genji made his way to the balcony. He opened the door, only to be hit with the large coastal breeze, which only brought up his recent memories of his time on the ship. Genji walked to the edge of the balcony and looked down, only to see how close the Stone Palace was from the edge of the steep cliff. It would be a long way down to the rocky shore below. If he wanted to, Genji could just step off of the paling and—

“Excuse me, Prince Genji?”

Genji turned around, broken out of that train of thought. It was Amélie, who had joined him out on the balcony. Genji let go of his grasp of the paling and faced Amélie, albeit somewhat sheepishly after having such depressive thoughts. Amelia’s face did not betray her, even after catching Genji in his act.

“Your brother is getting situated. Let’s allow him some privacy and I’ll show you to your quarters.” She said, her voice monotonous.

“Ah, yes. I suppose.” Genji said with a noncommittal nod.

Amélie led him out of Hanzo’s room. Genji glanced back, only to see that Hanzo had found his travelling trunk and was already unpacking his clothes. Hanzo looked up just in time to see Genji leave. To Genji’s disappointment, his brother mouthed something in their native tongue: _we’ll talk later_.

Amélie closed the door behind them as they left. And soon they made their way back down the western wing. However, now she had slowed in her pace until both she and Genji were walking side to side. He could feel her eyes on him, and he did his best not to make eye contact, afraid she would give him a scornful look. Still, he could see the faint smile Amélie wore.

They walked this way for almost a solid minute.

“I can sense your displeasure.” She finally commented, her tone low and soft. Amélie let out a small hum before continuing. “You do not want to be here.”

At that, Genji turned to look at Amélie. He let out a long sigh, deciding to not deny her of his ever apparent feelings.

 “Is it that obvious?”

“You hide it well enough. I am just really good at reading people. Not to pat myself on the back.” Amélie said, smiling softly.

“Oh.” Genji said, turning to face away.

“You’ll become accustomed to living here. It will take time, but soon you won’t mind it here.” Amélie suggested. “And if you ever need a few hours alone, you’ll find that the Palace is much larger than expected, with many nooks and crannies to hide away in.”

At this Genji raised an eyebrow at her. “And you know this how?”

“Because, many years ago, I used to despise this place.” Amélie admitted. “And you remind me of myself, way back then.”

This surprised Genji. His first impression of this stunning woman was that she had been in high society all her life just like himself. And that this was all she had known, the contentment of living among a grand palace surrounded by the wealthy and ostentatious. And perhaps that was it; she _was_ just like him. Had Amélie been groomed for this position all her life, and regretted what had become of her? Now that Genji thought about it, her face wasn’t a mask of severity, but perhaps one of bitter sadness.

Amélie saw Genji’s change in expression and smile ruefully, seemingly confirming his thoughts.

 “I know how difficult it will be, because I have been through this.” She said softly, in a hushed whisper.

“What do you mean?”

“It is no secret that I did not come here on my own volition, many years ago.” Amélie said. “When I was arranged to marry the Count, I left everything behind to live in the Stone Palace. The transition was… not easy. But I managed to find a way to make myself happy here.”

Genji tried to find words to respond to that, but found that he was at a loss. He settled on asking her a question. “You had an arranged marriage?”

“Like you had, _oui_?”

“… yes.”

Amelie stopped in her tracks and faced Genji. He stopped as well, and found that she was staring into him with her bright hazel eyes.

“This place is not a cage, Genji. And the sooner you stop thinking like that, the happier you’ll be. Trust me when I say this. These people here, they are nice, and they will treat you like an old friend. Maybe even as family… eventually.” Amélie said.

She paused as she looked behind them, just to make sure there wasn’t a guard or a servant around to hear her next words. And when she spoke, it was almost too low for Genji to hear. He leaned forward, and she whispered in his ear.

“And there is more freedom here than you might think. You won’t be trapped within the confines of the Stone Palace.” Amélie whispered. “Come speak with me if you want to find a way to sneak out into the lower districts. I have my ways.”

And with that, she stepped backwards, clasping her hands together in front of her. She was smiling again, just a hint of sadness that tugged at the edge of her eyes. Amélie motioned for the two of them to continue walking, and Genji did not hesitate to do so despite his somewhat confused state.

“I can be your friend, Genji. It gets so terribly lonely here sometimes.” Amélie added, a hint of a smirk tugging at her lips.

A friend. An ally. Someone that maybe understood how he felt and wouldn’t put their duty above his feelings. Yes, he would like that very much.

“Thank you.” Genji whispered.

She smiled, nodding in thanks herself. “Come, let me show you to your room.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, sorry about the suicide mention. If this bothers anyone, I can take it out.


	3. Chapter 3

_19, Month of Songs._

_Father,_

_After all that we’ve been through, we have finally settled into our quarters at the Stone Palace. It has taken me several hours to gather my things and settle into this room, and I write this just before retiring for the night. I find it hard to think that this room will be mine for the course of the next year. This place, it is so different from Shimada Castle; I find myself curious about how this place came to be. It cannot be as old as our own palace, as Gibraltan is only a mere century old with its independence. And its grandiose architecture could only be found in these modern times. I doubt in real battle this keep would hold for more than a few days._

_Throughout the day both Genji and I have met the entirety of Queen Ana’s court. They are all respectful, and those who have met you spoke highly of you. I had not known that you have gone to war with some of these men and woman, and that they consider you their comrade. Perhaps if you wish to write back you could indulge me of these war stories you have kept from Genji and me. There is one man in particular, a giant of a man known as Reinhardt, that has sworn you have single handedly obliterated a whole war party of Omnics. I do not doubt your skills, but I am curious to hear the tale nonetheless._

_Queen Ana is, for a lack of better words, nothing like what I expected of her. Or of any reigning monarch. I expected a strong, serious ruler with wisdom beyond her age, not dissimilar to yourself Father. Or perhaps even matured and heartbroken over the loss of her daughter. Instead I find her tactless, quick in wit and tongue, and even a fool could tell she cares not for simple, sophisticated gestures. Am I wrong in believing this is not how a queen should act? Or is this a cultural difference, something so different from our traditions that I am blind to it? I suppose only time will hold that answer._

_The Knight Captain of the guard here seems like an honest and good man. Perhaps you have met him? Jack Morrison? He cares about those under his command. And he seems well experienced in the art of war, perhaps from the numerous battles he has fought against the Omnics. During supper earlier we talked together, and I found that he respected my opinion despite how young I was compared to him. He recognizes the strength I wield, and wants to use it to Gibraltan’s advantage. I have offered to help train some of his newer recruits later this week, just to show them some of Hanamura’s traditional fighting styles. While I am nervous to fight in an upcoming battle, whenever one approaches, I know my place and will fight among these men and woman. Of that, Captain Morrison has my word._

_I doubt Genji will remember to write to you until much later, so I will do so for him. I could sense that he had trouble settling in so far. For much of the day he was quiet and reserved, spending most of his time within his private quarters. It is so unlike him that I suspected something was incredibly wrong. But in time I expect him to return to his normal self. I expect Queen Ana’s own rowdy personality will draw him out of this stupor. Yet despite all of this, Genji has somehow managed to make a friend. She is a young woman, married to one of Gibraltan’s Counts. She has a sense of severity and a cold beauty to her, but from what Genji has commented, she has a soft, kind heart._

_The two are nothing alike, and they make an odd pair of friends, but I will leave them to their own devices for now. That is, until Genji makes a foolish error and then I will be forced to intervene. I pray to the Creator that this will not happen for several more weeks, but I know my brother. Hopefully when he makes an embarrassment of the Shimada name, I can rectify it quickly to save our family’s honor. I will keep you informed when this occurs._

_Tomorrow will be a long, arduous day, that I do know. But it will also mark the first day of my duties. I will keep you informed of what they are and when they are completed. Until then, I will fruitlessly try to sleep in this otherwise too feathery bed. There are far too many pillows for my liking._

_Hanzo_

* * *

 “What do you think of them?”

“Hmm? Of who?”

“Sojiro’s boys. What’s your first impression, Reinhardt?”

Queen Ana and her royal bodyguard sat in large, comfortable armchairs in her private study. They sipped away at the last of their habitual midnight tea as they watched the nearby fireplace crackle from the dying embers. The night was growing long; the sun had set several hours ago and the Stone Palace was almost completely silent. Reinhardt was out of his armor and had changed into his sleepwear, which was an unusual sight itself.

Reinhardt turned to look at Ana with his one good eye before taking a sip of his cooling tea. Ana herself was in her nightdress, and she was patiently waiting for his answer. Reinhardt spent a moment to contemplate, deep in thought. Most days, Ana would ask Amélie, who occasionally acted as her royal advisor, for this sort of matter. But sometimes, very rarely, Ana would ask her oldest and dearest friend. At times like these, Reinhardt tried his best to be honest with the woman.

“The older one, Hanzo. He reminds me too much of Sojiro. In both bad and good ways. He is much too serious for his own good.” Reinhardt finally admitted. “It is no surprise that he acts older than he is.”

Reinhardt set down his teacup and then ran a hand through his now disheveled hair. Reinhardt spent a moment trying to find the correct words to voice his thoughts. “But I know that it comes from all the burdens he’s had thrusted upon him. When his father dies, he’ll inherit the throne, and all the responsibility of protecting Hanamura. Hanzo had to grow up too early, and it shows. The poor boy; I pity him.”

Ana was nodding at this, but did not speak up to add her own comments.

“And the other, Genji…” Reinhardt trailed off in thought. “He was quiet today. And as a prince he needs to learn to train his emotions better. Even I can tell that the boy does not want to be here; but I do not think he understands the disrespect that shows to us. So, that leads me to believe he does not feel the same sense of duty as his brother. But being the second born will do that to you… he’s still trying to find his place in this world.”

There was more Reinhardt wanted to say, but he knew he had said enough already. He had given Ana his opinion, and would give nothing more unless she provoked more out of him.

“I agree. I can see Sojiro in both of them. And their mother too.” Ana commented, her eyes locked onto the embers in the fireplace.

At the mention of the boys’ late mother, Reinhardt turned to Ana and raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? I never had the opportunity to meet her. What was she like?”

“I had only met Jin once. She was a kind woman, and incredibly dedicated to her work, but was also quick to anger and slow to forgive.” Ana said. “But she loved wholeheartedly. Sojiro, her sons; her family was her life. I know that all of Hanamura mourned for her when she passed.”

“Only time will tell if her sons share these traits.” Reinhardt said.

“I’m sure they do, but it will take some time to earn their trust. Sojiro was the same way when he was young.” Ana said. She then let out a short sigh and brought a hand up to her forehead, trying her best to soothe an ongoing headache. “It’s been plaguing my mind, Reinhardt. I wonder… did we do the right thing? Agreeing to Sojiro’s request to take in the boys?”

“What do you mean? They seem experienced enough for war to me.”

“No, I’m not talking about the war. Just living here in general. These are dark times in Gibraltan, and it will not take them long to discover some of the darker secrets that plague us.”

“… You already know my answer to that, Ana.”

Ana frowned at that. She had been hoping that Reinhardt would help her in making a decision she had been sitting on for quite a while. But not for the first time he had made it clear that it was not in his place. With another sigh, this time one full of regret, Ana finished her tea. She set the cup down on a nearby table, albeit with perhaps too much force.

“I will talk with them.” Ana said, having finally decided. “Perhaps not tomorrow, but soon. And if they are angry, then we will deal with it when the time comes.”

“They will appreciate it, I’m sure.” Reinhardt said with an admiring smile and nod. “I’ve yet to meet a person who likes it when secrets are withheld from them.”

“Somehow I don’t have as much confidence.” Ana muttered. “Sometimes ignorance is bliss, Reinhardt.”

They spent a few minutes in silence. The room had grown quite dark during their talk. The embers had finally sizzled away, and only the waning moon illuminated the study. Ana couldn’t help but let out a sleepy yawn, already tired from the prospect of tomorrow. Reinhardt caught the sound and let out a groan as he stood up from his chair.

“It is late, my fair lady.” Reinhardt said, yawning himself. “And as much as I enjoy the splendor of your voice, perhaps we should continue this conversation tomorrow?”

Reinhardt extended a hand towards Ana. Ana smiled, blushing slightly from his small flirtatious pass (they were rare in occasion, and he never truly acted upon them despite how Ana always reciprocated them), and graciously accepted the offer.

“Yes, I’d like that.”

* * *

 Countess Amélie Lacroix stared at the ceiling of the room, emotionless and frozen in her spot. She was in bed, hair let loose and with a few curls tickling at her cheeks. Beside her was Gérard, lying on his stomach as he snored slightly in his sleep. He had draped one arm over her stomach, and it was for this reason alone Amélie was still in bed.

Amélie was restless; sleep escaped her like it has had countless times before. She knew that she would be lucky if she had been granted only a couple hours of sleep tonight. Fortunately she was more than capable of hiding the evidence of a sleepless night behind her usual makeup. Only she, and perhaps Gérard, would know the difference.

At the thought of Gérard, Amélie turned to look at her husband. He was still snoring, and he barely moved when she whispered his name. That was the only test she needed to know that he was in a deep sleep. Carefully, Amélie picked up the arm that was draped over her and moved it to the side. Once she was sure she hadn’t disturbed him, Amélie rose out of bed.

The feeling of cold stone on her bare feet sent an exciting shiver up her spine. She had not gone on one of her midnight walks in so long, and she was looking forward to the time alone, without prying or curious eyes. Quietly Amélie walked towards her armoire and found a robe that would cover her and keep her warm.

However, as she tied the robe together, Amélie saw from the corner of her eye that Gérard was beginning to stir.

“ _Ma Chérie_ , where are you going?” Gérard asked, his voice groggy and thick with sleep. He sat up slightly, just enough to look at his wife with half lidded eyes. “It’s late my dear, why are you not asleep?”

“I am thirsty, my love. I am off to the kitchen to fetch a glass of water.” Amélie lied effortlessly. Without looking at Gérard, Amélie turned towards the door of their large room. She paused as she opened the door, the light from outside poking through the crack. “I will return shortly. Please try to get some rest.”

Gérard nodded before giving out a yawn. He settled back in bed, closing his eyes as he muttered to his wife, “Do not stay up too late. There is much to do tomorrow.”

“Of course, my dear.” Amélie said as she left the room.

Amélie had no intention of going to the Stone Palace’s kitchen. Instead, she headed in the opposite direction, back to the Main Hall. The lanterns lit in the hall had an ominous light to it this late in the night, but Amélie was comfortable in their dim warmth. And when a few patrolling guards passed, they did not bat an eye at her unexpected appearance.

The Main Hall was quiet this late at night. No guards stood at attention in the empty Throne Room, and most of the palace’s servants were already asleep in the servant’s wing. Save for the occasional passing guard making their rounds, Amélie was alone.

She made her way towards the middle of the room, feeling the polished, shiny stone beneath her feet. This was such a rare feeling, for she always wore heels outside of her room. Amélie cherished the feeling, stopping where she was and closing her eyes. She sucked in a long breath and smiled, feeling herself relax.

And then, she started to move, started to _dance._

The steps came to her almost as easily as walking did. Her steps were light like a feather, the movements of the dance shifting her weight easily. And as she immersed herself in the dance, Amélie could swear that she heard the accompanying music. The sound of violins, of cellos and basses. Sometimes the sound of an aged yet elegant soprano.

She remembered everything.

It all came back in a rush, the lifestyle she left behind for her home here in Gibraltan. The intricate and beautiful costumes, the ancient wooden stage, the _applause_ , and the people who had been her colleagues and friends. Her parents, even. It was as if Amélie had travelled back in time to 5 years ago, living back in her home country far to the west coast.

Now, here in this moment, she was Amélie the ballet prodigy, best of her peers. And not Countess Amélie Lacroix of Gibraltan, wife to the Commander of the Guard, advisor of the Queen.

Amélie cherished this for as long as she could. But it never lasted. As soon as Amélie heard the telltale sign an armor clad guard making their rounds, the spell was broken. Amélie stopped halfway through a pirouette, and she took a second to collect herself. She smoothed out her hair and righted her robe before spotting the oncoming guard.

The guard was none the wiser and he nodded to Amélie as he passed by and entered the next wing. Amélie stopped herself from blushing from embarrassment and started to slowly make her way back towards her living quarters. The moment had passed, and now she had to return to reality.

As Amélie found her way down the hall and back towards her and Gérard’s private quarters, she passed by the Eastern Wing’s main balcony, which looked out towards the ocean. Amélie stopped mid-step and turned to the glass doors. Perhaps some fresh air would do her some good, and allow her to think freely for a few minutes.

The sound of the ocean carried on the wind greeted her. Her hair was blown out of her face and Amélie grabbed at her robe. She made her way to the balcony’s banister and set her elbows down on it. She stared out at the open, choppy ocean. The lighthouse’s light was shining, twirling around and blinding her every few seconds.

She sucked in a deep breath, feeling peaceful in this short moment.

Amélie’s thoughts eventually turned to the young Hanamuran prince, and of her offer to him. She had not lied to him earlier; when they had first met the similarities between the two of them had shocked her. Genji would need help transitioning in this place, and any help she had to offer him would have been much more than what Amélie had years ago.

And Amélie so desperately wanted a friend. She hadn’t been lying about that earlier either.

_Perhaps_ , Amélie thought to herself, _perhaps I should invite Genji out to visit the Sly Fox Tavern. It would do him some good to forget who he is for a while. Even if it would be for just a few hours._

Amélie nodded to herself. She had made her decision.

_I’ll talk to Lena tomorrow, and see if we can’t make arrangements for an outing later this week. Hopefully Lena can work with such a short time restraint._

Amélie smiled at the thought. She had not visited the Sly Fox Tavern for many weeks now, and the small outing would do her much good. She had a feeling that Genji would like the experience, as well.

Amélie was content with this plan. She turned to leave the balcony, only to spot the most unusual thing. From one of the palace’s windows, she could see a faint green, otherworldly light. Confused, Amélie walked to the furthest part she could reach from the balcony, trying her best to remember whose room that window belonged to.

And as if by fate, the occupant of the room stepped out onto their patio at that very moment. Amélie let out a short, terrified gasp as she saw that it was Genji, who was being followed by a small, slithering green spirit.

* * *

 Genji had been up for perhaps a half hour, awoken by distant dreams of events that had happened long ago. Not quite nightmares, but dreams he would have been happy to never be plagued from for the rest of his life. Genji knew if he returned to sleep, he would relapse into these memories turned dreams. And he did not want that.

Instead now he sat up in bed, lying against the headboard as he stared around his room and occasionally out the window. Genji’s room was similar to Hanzo’s in design; they were almost identical save for the soft yellow accents that were found in this room’s décor. This place was so foreign to him, so different from his old room back in Hanamura, that Genji did not know how he would be able to sleep peacefully.

Genji wondered if Hanzo was plagued by the same problems. And then Genji remembered that Hanzo was the practically perfect son, and that he had probably fallen into an easy sleep hours ago.

Sometimes Genji couldn’t help but feel jealous of his older brother.

Genji’s gaze wandered to the side and towards the large, glass windows. He looked up to the moon as it slowly trekked across the night sky. He had no sense of time in this foreign place; his best guess was that it was still early in the morning, long before the sun was set to rise.

That would mean that he would have all the privacy in the world.

As if sensing consent from his master, Genji’s tattoo began to prickle from the powerful magical source below his skin. Genji watched, fascinated as the day it first happened, as the small green spirit of a dragon awoke from the ink. It lazily floated above him, emitting a soft green glow around its form.

Genji sank back down into his bed, watching as the dragon moved across the room, inspecting its new surroundings. Genji could feel the spirit dragon’s emotions, as they were entwined with his own. It was curious but cautious, anxious even, but relieved to be allowed the simple freedom of floating around the room.

Genji smiled at the spirit dragon, just content to watch it wander its new home for the next year. He was technically not allowed to do this by Shimada customs, or else he would be severely punished. Perhaps even with banishment. But here, far away from the Elders’ ever vigilant eyes in Hanamura, Genji could freely allow the spirit the freedom it deserved.

The spirit dragon sensed Genji’s slight anxiety at the thought of the Elders and made its way back. It circled above him, making a purring noise that Genji could only faintly hear, informing its master of its delight. As if entranced, Genji raised one of his arms towards it, a finger lazily pointed towards the green spirit. Without hesitation, the spirit dragon brushed against the offered finger, purring again.

“I hope this is your way of forgiving me for what I did to you.” Genji whispered.

As if to answer Genji, the spirit dragon bit his finger. Fortunately it did so without enough force to draw blood. Genji yanked his hand away instinctively, warily eyeing the green spirit. Genji could sense its petty amusement.

As he inspected the bite mark, Genji muttered, “ouch. I’ll take that as a no, then.”

The only response Genji got from the spirit was nonsensical chatter. It was still clearly amused by its master’s discomfort. For a brief second, Genji wondered if he should punish the spirit, but then dismissed such a thought. Even in spirit form, a dragon was a wild, magical beast. It would do no good if Genji berated such a powerful creature.

“Someday, we’ll learn to see eye to eye. Just you wait.” Genji said, more to himself than to the spirit.

Again, the spirit let out a series of chatters that Genji surmised as disinterest on its part. Genji let out a sigh before deciding that perhaps it would be best if he tried to catch some rest, despite the dreams that would plague his unconsciousness. He rolled over to his side, closing his eyes and quietly commanded that his dragon withdrew from this reality.

The soft green light that filtered through his eyelids informed Genji that the dragon spirit was not quite ready to rest yet.

With an impatient sigh, Genji rose from his bed and found a set of discarded clothes on the ground. As he got dressed the dragon spirit circled around him, curious as to what Genji would do for it. Genji nearly swatted it away from it when it got to close, which earned him a warning hiss. Genji ignored it; the spirit would not do too much harm to its master in fear that it would hurt itself. Genji had learned that early on in the Bond.

Genji left his room to go spend a few moments in peace out on his private balcony. He welcomed the salty ocean air as he opened the door. It pushed his black hair back out of his eyes, and Genji was once again reminded of his own need of a haircut. Genji rested against the banister, eyes scanning the far horizon for anything of interest.

His dragon spirit floated around him until it felt tired enough to land on Genji’s right shoulder. It wrapped its body around the arm, right over the tattoo. Genji turned to look at the dragon, somewhat surprised that the spirit was ready to return to its previous state after making it clear that it was not ready moments ago.

“Something wrong, little one?” Genji asked, raising an eyebrow at the green spirit.

The spirit’s response was a wave of anxiety, one that shook Genji to his core. Suddenly and as if by instinct, Genji understood why the spirit was feeling this way. They were being watched.

While Genji and his spirit dragon never truly saw eye to eye together, the spirit did understand (to some extent) why it must never be seen out of battle. It was dangerous how close the Shimada’s were to breaking one of the Creator’s clear tenants: all forms of magic are evil and demonic, and only belong to the vile Omnics.  To be witnessed with such a clear violation would black mark the entire Shimada line.

Genji instantly grew alert, pushing himself off of the banister as he swiveled around. The spirit dragon was thrown off, but did not voice its annoyance. Instead it flew close to Genji, very apprehensive.

And there, Genji spotted them. A person on another balcony far to his right. What they were doing up at this odd time? Everyone within the palace should be asleep. Genji tried to get a better look at the prying intruder, only to discover that it was Amélie.

A sudden knot of panic appeared in Genji’s throat. Even from here, he could see Amélie’s expression of fear. Instantly, Genji ordered the spirit to vanish, and without question the green light surrounding him disappeared. His tattoo ached from the sudden magical presence, but Genji ignored it.

But still, the damage was done. And now, within 48 hours of his arrival, Genji had already endangered the Shimada line.

* * *

 Deep within the guard barracks, in a private room reserved for the highest ranking official, Knight Captain Jack Morrison awoke with a sudden start. He found himself panting, drenched in a cold sweat. He had kicked off most of his covers in his restless sleep. Slowly, Jack tried to slow his racing heartbeat. He swung his legs off the bed and grabbed at the nape of his neck, almost hyperventilating.

It took several minutes for Jack to calm down, and several more to stop the shaking. Yet even then, he felt empty and hollow.

The nightmares.

They always seemed to grow worse and more frequent when a battle grew on the horizon. It was almost like a sixth sense at this point, never failing to signal an incoming message from the rangers to the north.

Jack looked out the window, only to see the dark, starry night sky. The moon poked between leaves in the nearby trees, which were crackling in the soft night breeze. He watched as a few of the most aged leaves fell to the ground, and then scattered against the gravel.

It must have been still early in the morning, a couple hours before dawn was set to arrive. He allowed himself a few more seconds of respite and then let out a heavy sigh. The nightmare had erased any sense of exhaustion from him, and Jack forced himself out of bed. Jack struggled to pull on a pair of pants for a few moments in the absence of light. Once he was decent, Jack left his private room and decided to silently roam around the barracks, perhaps ghosting the halls and the outside grounds.

He was the only one up, save for the few night guards stationed around the entrances. They did not question why he was up so early, and for that Jack was thankful. They saluted to their Captain, and he silently bade them a goodnight. Jack moved past them and out into the palace’s gardens.

He wandered for what must have been almost an hour, thoughtlessly roaming the vast hedge maze that the groundskeepers constantly tended to. Eventually Jack stopped thinking about his now cold bed, and he tried his best to let the nightmares follow suit.

A shiver travelled up his spine, and he was reminded of the changing of the seasons. Soon it would be too cold to continue on with these midnight walks without a shirt on. Finally feeling tired again, Jack sat down on a nearby bench.

But as soon as he stopped moving, the nightmare returned with full force, like a hammer hitting an anvil.

_The battlefield was littered with mangled corpses, both human and Omnic alike. The ground beneath his boots was charred and soaked with blood and oil. The woods surrounding the open field had grown unnaturally still ever since the fighting had ceased. Or perhaps he couldn’t hear correctly; his ears were ringing from the shrill of the last angry Omnic that had tried to kill him._

_The Omnics had long since retreated, escaping into the unnatural wilds that they had slithered out of. That had been hours ago, leaving the Gibraltan forces to lick their wounds in peace. They had won, but at what cost? So many were dead or dying, and many more were wounded…_

_Even Gabe…_

_Jack found himself being pulled into the hastily put up medic tents. Doctors and alchemists hurried around the wounded and dying, either to save their lives or alleviate their pains for those few moments that mattered. A field nurse turned to him and pressed a thick cloth against the side of his head before leaving, and Jack realized he was bleeding from the temple. They had said something to him, but he couldn’t quite make out their words. His ears were still ringing._

_Jack was pulled further in, into a private room that had been walled off with a dirty blanket someone had clothes-pinned to the ceiling of the tent. Inside was a lone cot, with only one doctor and one patient. It was Gabe. The man looked up at Jack’s approach, and then he wore a relieved smile. The doctor left, and soon it was just Jack and Gabriel._

_A long moment passed. And then Jack kneeled down before Gabe on the ground, and his hearing was suddenly crystal clear._

_“It’s about time you got here, jackass.” Gabe said with a rough, tired voice. He then bent forward and coughed, grabbing at his chest as he did so. He looked in pain. “Damn it; hurts like hell.”_

_Jack noticed the bandages over Gabe’s chest, and he remembered the brutal fight the man had been in. The Omnics had all but torn off Gabe’s armor with their magical attacks, but the man had kept going. He hadn’t even recognized his wounds, not until—_

_“You took out a God Program. All by yourself…” Jack muttered as his hands searched desperately for Gabe’s. He found he was shaking._

_Gabe frowned, looking quite concerned. “You’re in shock, Jack. Come back to me. Please.”_

_“You could have died.” Jack stated, still in shock. He was so close to tears now. “You **should** be dead. I could have lost you…”_

_“No. You won’t. I’m not done yet.” Gabe said, taking Jack’s hands into his. He stared into Jack’s eyes, the determination set in the hard lines of his face. “You won’t lose me. You won’t. I promise.”_

_With that, Jack did cry. He tried his best to wipe the tears away before he noticed Gabe was tearing up as well. The two shared a brief kiss before exhaustion from the battle overtook them. Jack collapsed to the ground and he rested his head awkwardly against Gabe’s shoulder. Gabe laid back down on his back, but the two still held hands._

_Time passed slowly as they rested there. They remained in that position for a few minutes, just enjoying each other’s company, both incredibly relieved that they survived another battle together. Before he knew it, Jack found himself falling asleep. Only the quiet voice of Gabe kept him from immediately falling unconscious._

_“The God Program… it spoke to me before I shattered its crystal heart.” Gabe said quietly. He was avoiding eye contact, staring up to the tent’s ceiling. Gabe squeezed Jack’s hand tight twice before continuing. “Perhaps it thought it’d scare me enough so I would spare it. And in the moment, I didn’t believe it. But now…”_

_“What did it say?” Jack asked, his eyes were half lidded as he turned to look up at the man._

_“It warned me that even if I killed it, it would still win in the end.” Gabe said. “Even if we won today, that the Omnics would still have the upper hand… It’s dying wish was to make me suffer.”_

_“It sounds like it was taunting you.” Jack said through a small yawn._

_Gabe let out a small chuckle, and then instantly regretted it as he reached for his chest again. “Yeah, I bet it was.”_

_Another moment of silence passed._

_“Jack. Don’t leave my side tonight, okay?” Gabe spoke up, a sense of urgency suddenly in his voice. It almost jolted Jack awake, but not quite. “I don’t think either of us should be alone until we get back home.”_

_“Of course.” Jack said, and then yawned again. He closed his eyes before he continued. “Think we can both fit in that bed?”_

_Jack didn’t have to look at Gabe’s face to know he was smiling. “Nope.”_

Jack lost his composure again. He brought his arms over his chest as another shiver rattled through him, either from the cold or from his own nerves. Jack bit back a sob, but allowed for his eyes to pour over with moisture.

“Gabe…” Jack whispered to himself, his breath hitching. He wanted to beg for forgiveness. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

It’s been 11 years, but it still hurt like it happened just yesterday. The aching in his chest was a constant reminder, and it always would be. Jack would probably take this pain to his death. And he would gladly do so, just to remember the man that meant the most to him.

It didn’t help Jack that the memories of those last few moments had quickly turned into his nightmare’s fuel. And now, those bittersweet memories have forever turned sour. After how much time has passed, happy moments together could only comfort so much.

Oh, how he wished Gabe was still here, by his side. But even the Creator dared not bring the dead back to life, and for Jack to think of such a thing was a sin in itself. Gabe was gone, and even if Jack was incapable of moving on, he couldn’t change that fact.

With a definite sigh, Jack picked himself off the bench. Slowly he made his way back to the guard barracks. Jack knew that he would not fall asleep again for the rest of the night; he would be sleep deprived and miserable for most of the next day. Instead, Jack knew that he would return to bed and lay in silence, imagining gentle and warm arms holding him as he tried his best not to weep for the loss of the love of his life.

* * *

Far away from Port City, within the rocky foothills of the Northern Mountains, stood a lone ranger. With nothing but his serape and a smoking pipe for company, the ranger sat down on an outcropping. He huffed on his pipe, training his eyes on the far distance and into the vast wilderness below. It would be at least another hour before dawn approached, but he could still see clearly through the heavy vegetation.

There was nothing but the sound of crickets to keep him company.

Sometimes the ranger regretted his line of work. It required spending vast amounts of time alone, away from civilization. And away from home. Only rarely would he encounter a friendly scouting party or a fellow patrolling ranger, and most times that would only be because he required new supplies. But he did his best work alone, so he continued to serve his country with little complaint.

He let out a small cough as the tobacco grew too strong, but nonetheless continued to smoke as he watched the far perimeter. Minutes ticked by, and then he put his pipe out. Just a few more hours and then he could get some shut eye back in his bunk at the closest watchtower.

Suddenly, something gleaming a light caught at the edge of his sight. And all thoughts of sleep disappeared as he stiffened in apprehension. The ranger sat up straighter as he tucked the pipe away. He grabbed his crossbow, already loaded just in case of an ambush. He kept his eyes on that spot, a cold chill forming in the pit of his stomach. After a few minutes, he spotted a second light, probably from a torch or lantern.

“Please, for the love of the Creator, just be a band of goblins.” The ranger muttered softly to himself, words almost lost to the wind. “Hell, I’ll even take a mountain troll or two.”

The ranger remained still as he watched the horizon. There it was again, and this time he was certain that it had been the gleam of metal against a light source. He felt his stomach churn with this cold realization, but other than that he knew he couldn’t dawdle any longer.

The Omnics were coming.

Slowly the ranger grabbed his pack and headed back down the stream he had used as a path. He had foolishly left his horse behind, where it could find steady ground while it caught up on sleep. The ranger hurried down the stream, doing his best to avoid detection. Once he caught sight of his beloved steed he wasted no time grabbing onto the reins and climbing on.

“Come on now, Sundance. Take me on the safest path back.” The ranger muttered as he patted his horse affectionately. “Hiya!”

The horse leapt into action, surging forward into a full sprint. The sound of hooves against dirt filled the air behind them, and the ranger only hoped that the enemy war party could neither see nor hear him. He prayed to the Creator, hoping that dawn would come just a little later than expected, just for mere seconds more time under the cover of darkness.

Despite knowing better, it felt like he had been riding for hours, exhaustion was tugging at his cold bones. Adrenaline and dread could only do so much for him at a time like this. And it was already leaving him, leaving the ranger weary.

So it came to a surprise when a bolt of purple fire exploded into a tree he had just passed.

The ranger’s horse was startled. It whinnied in fear as it suddenly froze mid-stride. The horse reared back, effectively knocking the ranger off of his saddle. With a loud _oof_ , the ranger hit the ground. He picked himself up just in time to see his horse trot away, off into the bushes and out of sight. Later, if he survived whatever was attacking him, the ranger swore he was going to kill that good-for-nothing horse.

The ranger stood up, crossbow aimed, looking for the source of the magical attack. As he did so, he felt a rush of nausea and unsteadiness. He hesitantly brought a hand up to his head, and felt a sharp sting. His gloved hand came back down damp. He’ll have an apothecary look at it later when he survived this ambush. If he survived.

As the ranger did his best to readjust himself, his attacker readied another spell. Out of the corner of his eye the ranger saw the spark of forming magic, and he caught the small glimpse of an outstretched, metallic hand. A voice, as unpleasant as metal grating against metal, screeched at him.

Another bolt of purple fire raced towards him, but the ranger managed to dodge at the last second. He leapt into a forward roll, and after he stuck the landing he aimed his crossbow at the source of the magic. He pulled the trigger, and within a second it connected to the target. Sparks of potent magic dazzled the frame of its wielder, giving the Omnic an ethereal glow. It had two of its arms raise, hands beginning to cusp the magic that seeped from it like a heavy fog and promptly ignited it. From there, the ranger could see the monster’s cold, lifeless face.

And beside it the ranger could also see two more Omnics by each of its sides, much more demonic looking than this one.

“Ah, hell.” The ranger grunted; this was not looking good.

He reloaded his crossbow and ducked behind the cover of a large oak tree. Another bolt of fire hit the ground where he had just been standing, and another hit the side of the tree, spitting embers onto the ranger’s serape. He batted away the magical embers haphazardly as he ducked out of cover and fired a second bolt.

This time the ranger managed to snag it in the neck, precisely where he wanted to hit it. The Omnic let out an inhuman shriek, forcing the ranger to cover his ear to protect his hearing. The creature twitched involuntarily as more sparks of magic exploded in the air. It fell to the ground, continuing to make pathetic noises as it tried effortlessly to pull the crossbow bolt out of its neck. It was defeated, and would soon lose all power.

One down, two to go.

The ranger reloaded the crossbow, and then hurried to change his position, knowing that if he stayed in one area for cover too long he would be trapped. He scrambled into a nearby bush, its thorns scratching at his face and unprotected skin. As he raised his crossbow, he was caught off guard as an unseen hand reached out and lunged for his neck. Startled, the ranger fell back onto his rear in an attempt to avoid the attack.

Above him stood the two remaining Omnics. These models looked inhuman, reminding him much more of large, wingless imps. Atop their head were pointed, serrated horns and sharp faux teeth rested over their metal jaw. Their frames were elongated and skeletal; arms long enough so that their hands almost touched the ground. Fingers nothing but rusted, sharpened scrap. In the back of his mind, the ranger remembered this model’s name: _Fiend_.

One took advantage of his dazed state and grabbed at him again. The ranger wasn’t quick enough, and he struggled to breathe as the Omnic picked him up by the neck, squeezing it too tightly. The ranger grabbed at the hand holding him, dropping the crossbow into the bushes. The Omnic brought his face up to its own, as if to stare down at him. Dark spots were forming in the ranger’s vision.  And then it spoke at him, making the ranger’s blood turn to ice.

_“Ssssss…uffferree. Hhh..uman.”_

Defiantly, the ranger used the last of his breath and grunted out, “Not gonna happen.”

The ranger pulled a small but heavy pouch out of his pocket and threw it to the ground. A small explosion unlike that of the Omnics’ magic dashed across their feet. Stunned, the Omnic dropped the ranger and cried out in shock. The ranger gasped, sucking in some much needed oxygen, and then sprung into action.

The ranger made a mental note to think Torbjörn for the flash-bang when he made it back to Port City. If he ever made it back to Port City.

Immediately seizing the opportunity, the ranger unsheathed his short sword and slashed it against one of the Omnic’s necks. Despite the resistance of metal against metal, the ranger decapitated the monstrosity. It fell to the ground, its lifeless corpse giving out a few sparks before going completely offline. The last Omnic was quickly regaining its senses, and the ranger shoved it with all his might, sending both him and it to the ground.

The Omnic was completely feral, magic literally pouring out of its frames like a flooding river. The magic stung at the ranger’s skin, numbing it with its cold energy. The Omnic let out a furious growl as it dug its sharp fingers into the ranger’s shoulders, drawing blood. The ranger screamed in pain, but otherwise did not let go of his own hold.

_“Whhyyy do you ssssss…sstruggle?”_ It asked in its demonic voice.

“’Cos you’re one ugly son of a bitch.” The ranger retorted through a pained grunt.

The ranger punched the Omnic, probably doing more damage to his fist than its face. But it had the require effect as it let go of his shoulders. It again howled in rage as the ranger scrambled off of it and struggled to crawl to his dropped crossbow. He could hear the Omnic pick itself up off the ground, and he knew he was out of time.

Just as he grasped the grip of the crossbow and turned around, he saw the Omnic, body practically burning with magical purple flames. It let out a blood curdling screech as it pointed its fingers towards the ranger. His sight was blinded by the terrifying spectacle, and he knew in this instant that he would not survive this fight.

But then a miracle.

There was the sound of arrows flying through the air, and then the Omnic was struck. Five longbow arrows had hit their mark, staggering the Omnic. The purple fire flickered, but just for a moment. It was long enough for the ranger to steady himself and take his own shot.

The crossbow bolt hit the Omnic in one of its red glowing eyes. It did not even have the opportunity of screaming out of pain as its lifeless body collapsed to the ground. A ring of purple fire surrounded the metallic corpse before dissipating within seconds.

The ranger dropped his crossbow. Panting from the rush of adrenaline, he grabbed and cradled his wounds. Slowly he watched as a party of friendly scouts, clad in leather armor with the royal seal embroidered into their breast plates, approached from the nearby vegetation. They all had their longbows drawn and arrows knocked, but they looked to their commanding officer for the order.

The ranger couldn’t help but smile at the familiar face.

“By the Creator, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes, Brooks?” The ranger said through a grunt. But despite everything, the ranger was smiling in relief.

The woman in question allowed herself to smirk before approaching the ranger. “I should have known it was you. Only you could wind up this neck deep in trouble, McCree.”

The ranger McCree barked out a hapless laugh before standing up. He struggled to his feet, and readily accepted the offered hand from Brooks. “It’s not like I go looking for trouble. Trouble just has a habit of finding me when I least need it.”

“Is that what you call this?” Brooks asked, motioning to the offline Omnics scattered among the ground. “I’d hate to see your version of a battle to the death.”

“Yeah, neither would I.” McCree muttered to himself, soft enough that Brooks wouldn’t hear him.

Brooks turned to her band of scouts, who were waiting for their orders patiently. “Search the perimeter. Make sure that there aren’t any stragglers. I expect you to deal with any you find. And _don’t_ alert them to our presence.”

There was a chorus of yes ma’ams and then the other scouts fled the scene of the crime. Brooks waited until she was sure that they were truly alone before going to inspect the Omnic corpses. She bent down and grabbed a stick, poking at the body that she and her officers had peppered with arrows.

“How many were there?” Brooks asked.

“Three in total. Two Fiends and one Pawn.” McCree answered as he went to stand by her. “Ugh, I swear they get uglier by the year.”

“You’ve noticed it too, then.” Brooks commented. Brooks dropped the stick and gave the dead Omnic a good kick in its chest for good measure. She walked away, keeping her eyes on the perimeter as she checked the other bodies. “Now we have to ask ourselves: was this a bunch of stragglers? Or was it an enemy scouting party?”

“Hate to bring you the bad news, but it’s a scouting party.” McCree said, his expression solemn. Here Brooks turned to look at him. Her eyes were wide, something akin to fear sparkling in them. “I saw the main horde up on the foothills. It’s a big one, Brooks.”

Brooks stood there for a few seconds, frozen in thought. There was a trace of fear in her dark eyes. After recollecting her composure, the Scout Commander cupped her hands together in front of her mouth and whistled. It sounded like birdsong, and to those untrained in the calls it would have passed for the real thing. But McCree understood the hidden message.

_Retreat to last known location_

Slowly but surely there was the tapering effect of answering calls, confirming that each of the scouts under Brooks command heard her order. As McCree and Brooks waited for the other scouts to return, Brooks turned to the man. She let out a small, tired sigh.

“You know, some day you’re going to get yourself killed. And someone’s going to have to tell Her Majesty why her best ranger is out rotting in a ditch somewhere. And that someone is going to be me.” Brooks said tiredly.

“Brooks, you know me. I wouldn’t give the bastards the satisfaction.” McCree said nonchalantly. He did his best to shrug, but sucked in a deep breath in pain when he remembered the wounds the Omnic had inflicted on him.

“Jesse. You almost did tonight.” Brooks said. She then sighed. It was here that McCree could see how much Brooks had aged since she taken up this leadership role last year. Bags were under her eyes, and the crow’s feet were much more pronounced. She wasn’t a young woman anymore. “I know we’ve just talked about this but… have you taken any consideration about having a partner out here with you?”

“Pass. I work best alone.” And he didn’t want someone else’s blood on his hands.

Slowly, the scouts came out through the brushes. Brooks waited until everyone was accounted for before giving McCree her last remark.

“True. But that hadn’t always been the case.” Brooks said.

McCree decided to ignore her in that moment. He grunted as he limped away, and towards the area where he had last seen Sundance. “Just help me find my horse. I’ve got a priority message to deliver back in Port City.”

* * *

Somewhere else, far to the west and out of Gibraltan’s borders, stood a single log cabin in a large, ancient, and sometimes feared forest. Next to the dwelling stood a stone well, a modest but bountiful garden, and a small handmade pond, all three crafted by patient hands. A single lantern shown from the inside the cabin, casting shadows as people moved from within. Several voices could be heard from inside, loud and boisterous despite how early in the morning it was. 

The door to the cabin opened slightly, and out poked a head. They turned to the horizon and saw that through the woods and to the east, the sky had been painted in light hues of red, orange, and pink. They closed the door, and seconds later the lantern from within was blown out.

A few minutes passed. And then out stepped the inhabitants of the cabin, who all stood together and watched as the sun began to rise. Minutes had passed. The mood had grown somber; some were holding each other in comfort. But these people did not betray the silence of the woods.

And finally the sun poked above the landscape and through the colorful leaves. With the light of the sun, an eerie smoke appeared and began to shroud the people that stood together. And when the smoke dissipated, the people had disappeared altogether.

In their place remained a peculiar collection of animals, all of whom could remember a time before this horrible curse.


	4. Chapter 4

It wasn’t until days later that Hanzo was allowed to meet with the Royal Blacksmith, the last member of Ana’s Court he had yet to meet. From what Hanzo had heard of him, he was a stout, hardworking man that had worked in the forge his entire life. Some people found his appearance appalling, due to the fact that he had lost part of his arm in a battle decades ago. But the man was dedicated, and he forged himself an iron replacement, one that worked even better than the original.

Captain Morrison had informed Hanzo that the man had been quite busy these last few weeks.

“May I ask, busy with what?” Hanzo asked Captain Morrison.

They had both just finished a long breakfast with the rest of the Royal Court, and were making their way down the halls of the Stone Palace. The two walked side by side as they held this conversation. They passed by many guards, all of whom saluted their Knight Captain. Captain Morrison nodded to his men, but did not stray his attention away from the task at hand.

“He’s trying something new out with our Grand Enchanter.” Captain Morrison answered, albeit somewhat hesitantly.

At that, Hanzo faltered in his step. He knew he wore an expression of surprise, but soon smoothed his features and caught up with the Knight Captain. Captain Morrison did not slow down for the prince.

“Grand Enchanter?” Hanzo said, puzzled. And then he grew furious. “You mean to tell me that there is someone here that can wield magic? Do you not realize how close you are to shunning the Creator’s light?!”

At this, Captain Morrison had the audacity to chuckle. “Says the man who has control over an ethereal dragon.”

Hanzo deflated at this retort. Captain Morrison was right, to some extent. He should not throw accusations at these people while he was technically at fault as well. Although, Hanzo was still slightly livid that Captain Morrison had thrown this technicality at him.

“No, our Grand Enchanter has no control over magic, but she’s close to understanding it.” Captain Morrison continued.

“… Tell me about this woman.”

“Her name is Satya Vaswani. She’s a genius, one of the most brilliant minds of the century. If anyone could possibly understand the Omnics and their ways with magic, it’s her.” Captain Morrison stated. “She originally hailed from Alterra, a city west of here, and spent most of her life in the Vishkar University, completely separated from Queen Ana’s edict. However, when we realized her potential, we made a petition to the university for her to study here.”

The two men exited the Stone Palace as they spoke. Hanzo briefly looked up to the sky, only to spot dark grey clouds above that were in great turmoil. The wind today was harsh, threatening to pull his hair out of his traditional bun. Out to the east, storm clouds were growing over the Black Ocean. Even here, Hanzo could hear the rumble of thunder. A storm was threatening to break over the horizon.

“Vishkar University barred the petition; they didn’t want to lose such a valuable asset.” Captain Morrison said. “But days later after we received the message, Vaswani appeared at the gates of the Stone Palace, along with all of her belongings. She came on her own volition, knowing the good she would do within the Royal Court. This happened less than a year ago, and she’s been with us since.”

A woman dedicated to her work, then. And the greater good of her country. The praise Captain Morrison was giving her painted a beautiful picture of her. Hanzo would just wait to see if this Satya Vaswani lived up to the praise.

Captain Morrison led Hanzo to the far edges of the Palace’s estate. From here, the Stone Palace was barely visible over the guard barracks and the servant’s quarters, only the golden domes from above were visible over the rooftops. But Hanzo could also see the forge. It was a small building, yet Hanzo could see that it was currently occupied from the long trail of dark smoke that floated out of its chimney. A few horses were tethered to a private stable here, all of which curiously looked at Hanzo and Morrison as they walked into the building.

Hanzo was immediately greeted by a wave of heat. Instantly Hanzo could feel himself sweat, and he regretted wearing such heavy clothes today. Captain Morrison led him inside, where Hanzo could see dozens upon dozens of swords that were lying on several tables, a few shields mounted on the walls. Iron tools were scattered everywhere, as if forgotten in their master’s busy schedule.

Hanzo heard the repetitious sound of a hammer on an anvil, and he searched for the source. And there he saw the Royal Blacksmith, and Hanzo knew that the peoples’ descriptions of him did him justice.

He was a small, heavily muscled man with an impressive beard. Or, it would have been impressive if it wasn’t singed and burnt off in some places. One of his eyes was missing, a leather eye patch covering the marred flesh (at this point Hanzo was certain that it was quite common for people of Gibraltan to lose at least one eye). And half of the man’s left arm was missing, replaced with a large metal prosthetic with a claw instead of a hand.

The man stopped in his work as he spotted Captain Morrison’s approach. He set down the hammer and the war axe he had been crafting. The man pulled up his pants, which had been loosely tugging at his hips during his work, and he smiled at Captain Morrison.

“Jack, it’s about time you came and visited me.” The blacksmith said through his smile.

“If I recall, you told me not to bother you when you were working on your new project.” Captain Morrison said.

The blacksmith let out a short bark of a laugh. “Aye, that I did. And I appreciate it.”

The blacksmith turned to Hanzo. Surprise flitted across his face, informing Hanzo that he was not expecting an unwanted visitor today. The blacksmith turned towards Captain Morrison again, and he pointed to Hanzo with the metal arm.

“Who’s this child with you?” the blacksmith asked, voice hushed as if he was trying to whisper.

Hanzo stood there for a second, gob smacked at the blacksmith’s lack of respect towards him. A righteous fury ignited in Hanzo’s blood. The dragons within him surged from Hanzo’s lack of restraint on his emotions, but he was capable of quieting them for the moment. Fortunately, no one noticed Hanzo’s rage at the blacksmith.

“I _beg your pardon?”_ Hanzo said, clearly offended.

“This _child_ , Torbjörn, is the crown prince of Hanamura. He arrived earlier this week to act as an ambassador for his people.” Captain Morrison informed. “I thought we had agreed to show him what you and Satya have been working on.”

“Hmmm… he’s younger than I expected. And shorter.” Torbjörn muttered under his breath; however Hanzo could still hear him quite clearly.

At this point, Hanzo had decided he did not like this man.

“ _Torbjörn_ , your new plans?” Captain Morrison almost snapped, and Hanzo was reminded why he liked him so much.

Torbjörn waved the conversation away with his flesh hand. He motioned for the two to follow him further into the forge. The blacksmith led them into a back room, where Hanzo was greeted by a ghastly sight that was not for those with a weaker stomach. Instead of weapons and armor stored in this room, it was full of disembodied parts of slain Omnics. Hands and arms were scattered around on tables, a few torsos were propped up in a corner. Unsurprisingly, no heads were within sight, as it was superstition an Omnic was still alive if the head was still intact.

There was the sound of faint, tiny screeches, and Hanzo spotted a cage full of rats. They were squirming around in fear as they spotted the approaching humans, and Hanzo felt himself grow squeamish. Hanzo did not fear much, but ever since there was an accident with a rat when he was a child, rodents of any kind were not his friends. He did not want to think why there was a cage full of rats in this room.

Hanzo turned around, only to see that many other magical artifacts that had been carefully and meticulously labeled on a shelf. Hanzo paused in his steps to look at the scavenged supplies. _Trolls teeth, mermaid fins, griffin feathers_ … _dragon scales_. There was so much here, and Hanzo had no idea how Gibraltan was able to collect such magical items. And just the thought that someone had managed to find and collect dragon scales sent an uneasy shiver through him.

“How did you find all this?” Hanzo asked, turning to look at Torbjörn.

“Well, it wasn’t easy, if you have to ask.  No one is sellin’ this sort of black magic.” Torbjörn answered, turning around to see that Hanzo was still staring at the organized shelves. “The rangers to the north and west will sometimes run into magical beasts. And sometimes we’ll put out a bounty for the remains of a dead creature, but only the brave and foolhardy answer our requests.”

“Why are you studying this? What do you hope to learn?”  Hanzo asked again, still in shock.

And at these questions, Hanzo was surprised to find the blacksmith smiling at him. Hanzo shared a questioning look with Captain Morrison, who only shrugged in response.

“We’re learning… how to use the Omnic’s magic against them.” Torbjörn said. “Come, I’ll show you what I mean.”

Hanzo followed Torbjörn further into the room. Torbjörn stopped at a small work table, which had a small steel dagger lying on top of it. Beside the dagger was a wooden bowl that held within it a thick, yellowish paste. Hanzo could smell the paste, and his stomach churned from the revolting stench. Captain Morrison even gagged from the smell, turning away and leaving the room briefly to catch some fresh air.

“This work isn’t for those with a weak gag reflex, eh Jack?” Torbjörn teased with a smirk.

“Ha ha, very funny.  Now what is this about, Torbjörn?” Morrison asked, deciding that it would be best to stay near the door.

“This is Satya’s work. She managed to find a way to turn pieces of Giant Spiders into a form of goo. She hopes that coating our weapons with this stuff will have an affect against the Omnics.” Torbjörn informed. He picked up the bowl and stuck a finger into the stuff. He pulled out the finger, and here Hanzo could see how the yellow slime curled around his finger. “It stings like a bastard, but hopefully the Omnics will feel it.”

“ _Ahem_.” A feminine voice spoke from behind them.

Hanzo turned around to find the source of the voice. There stood a woman, dark skinned and with a strict look about her. She wore fine white robes, and her hair was flawlessly done up in a bun, not a hair out of place. While both the forge and Torbjörn were covered in a small layer of grey soot, this woman was nothing but clean and pristine. Hanzo was surprised to find the woman wore thick rimmed goggles, probably in hopes to protect her eyes. But what Hanzo found most surprising was her age; she couldn’t have been much older than 20.

“Torbjörn, I thought I told you not to touch my work.” The woman said, stepping forward and further into the room. “We do not know the properties of these creatures, so we are blind to their affects on ourselves.”

The woman’s gaze fell upon Hanzo, and recognition flitted across her eyes. Without much thought, the woman curtsied before Hanzo, bowing her head forward out of respect.

“Prince Hanzo of Hanamura, I presume. It is an honor to make your acquaintance.” The woman said delicately.

“You are correct.” Hanzo confirmed, bowing his head lightly in respect. “And you are the Grand Enchanter of Gibraltan?”

“Yes, but you may call me Satya.” The woman said. “Now Torbjörn, wipe that stuff off of your hand. You wouldn’t want to lose a finger, would you?”

“Wait. It can do that?” The blacksmith asked.

“I don’t know; I’ve never been foolish enough to stick my fingers in it without protection.” Satya answered while wearing a slightly smug expression.

Torbjörn grumbled but did as he was ordered. He set the bowl of paste down and stepped back. He leaned against another table, arms crossed as he allowed Satya the room. Very discreetly, however, Torbjörn glanced at his finger and inspected it to see if he would truly lose it. He then wiped his pants with said finger.

“My work is very delicate, and you may have ruined our entire supply.” Satya said as she picked up the blow and looked in it. “It took me many hours to make a paste this stable, and it would take me the rest of the day to make a new batch.”

“What is it that you do here, my lady?” Hanzo asked. “All that I’ve been told is that your work is incredibly important for our defense against the Omnics.”

“But that is precisely what my work is for, Your Highness. I study the magical properties of the beasts that inhabit this world.” Satya said, not looking up from her work. “I am the world’s foremost expert on this subject, as I do not limit myself by the Creator’s sacred tenants. There is much to discover, and it will be me who finds the solution to humanity’s salvation.”

A woman without religious morals, then. Dangerous, but incredibly useful.

“Hence the title, Grand Enchanter, then?” Hanzo surmised.

At this, Satya looked up from the paste, smiling as she made eye contact with Hanzo. She set the bowl down and picked up the dagger instead. As the woman played with the weapon in her fingers, she said, “Precisely.”

With the dagger still in her hand, Satya made her way over towards the cage full of rats. She pulled on one glove and opened the cage and carefully plucked one of the rats from inside. The poor creature was terrified and tried to bite her, but Satya’s leather glove protected her skin. Hanzo watched, almost horrified as Satya dipped the tip of the dagger into the bowl of yellow paste.

“Tell me, Prince Hanzo, what do you know of a Giant Spider’s bite?” Satya asked, her eyes moving from the squirming rat and over to Hanzo.

“Their venom can paralyze the unwary, allowing for the beast to coat it with its webbing to further impair them. From there, the spider devours it prey.” Hanzo said, his eyes never leaving the rat in her hand. “They are quite common here, but not so in Hanamura. I’ve only read about them.”

“But your observations are correct. So imagine a weapon that had the same paralyzing powers of the Giant Spider. Observe.” Satya said.

And almost too quickly, Satya quickly nicked the leg of the rat with the tip of the dagger. The rodent screamed in a mixture of pain and fear, but soon grew stiff in the woman’s hands. As if to make her point clear, Satya set the paralyzed rat down on the table, allowing for all of the men in the room to see its affects.

A few moments passed as they all watched the unmoving rat. It was Morrison who spoke first.

“Satya. This is amazing, and horrifying. The implications of such a weapon—

“Of an _enchantment_ , Knight Captain.” Satya clarified. “The weapon of itself is unchanged; it is the enchantment that has these effects.”

“… The implications of such an… enchantment might cause some worry among my men.” Captain Morrison said. “Who’s to say that this is not humanity playing with black magic?”

“My Knight Captain, don’t think about it like that. Humans are incapable of wielding magic. Nothing about my work will ever change that fact.” Satya said. “No, what I study here is how to use the magic the Omnics created against them. I’ve made many breakthroughs, but it still is not enough. This enchantment is only a onetime occurrence, I’m afraid.”

As if to prove her point, Satya grabbed another rat from the cage. As it struggled in her hand, Satya cut this one in the same manner as the previous rat. Everyone waited patiently to see if the rat would also grow stiff in her hold. Surprisingly it did not.

“I haven’t made a breakthrough yet to make the enchantment a long term solution. So in order to make this effective in battle, the wielder must constantly recoat their weapon. This is not practical.” Satya said. “Now if you excuse me.”

Hanzo watched as Satya picked up both rats and made her way back into the main room of the forge. She opened up the front door and carefully set the rats outside. One ran away as soon as it was freed of her grasp, yet the other one was still feeling the effects of the spider bite enchantment.

Satya let out a small sigh as she returned to them. “I do regret performing live experiments, but there is no other way to have such accurate results. Now, do either of you have any questions?”

She turned expectantly to Captain Morrison and Hanzo. Apparently Torbjörn had already known about her little experiments, as he just grumbled and returned to the forge. Seconds later, Hanzo could hear the repetitious sound of hammer on steel again. Hanzo turned to look at Morrison’s expression, but found the man was wearing a grim mask, refusing to stare at the woman.

“Have you only been working on this single enchantment? What of the rest of this… stuff?” Hanzo finally asked, turning to motion to the shelves of magical articles

“No, I have much more projects. However this is the one I have made the most progress on. I am quite ambitious, Prince Hanzo.” Satya said as she stepped forwards. She picked an item up from the labeled shelf and turned to Hanzo, a long fiery red feather in her hand. “Imagine an enchantment where you can breathe underwater, recover from a mortal wound as fast as a phoenix could, or perhaps even climb a steep cliff with the ease of a spider.”

Hanzo could already climb with great ease, but he saw no point of informing the woman of that. “And you hope to discover how to create these ways? Are you not afraid of what the common folk will think of your work?”

“Yes… I am _incredibly_ afraid. However, I believe that magic is the key to our survival, Prince Hanzo. In some form or another.” Satya said. She then grew solemn, her eyes falling away from her gaze. She set the magical items back in their place before returning to the dagger from earlier. “If my work ensures humanity’s survival, I do not care if I am vilified in the process.”

“I do not know how to feel about your work, but I can respect your dedication, Miss Vaswani.” Hanzo said with a nod. “Although your work may be unprincipled, you only wish to do what is right for your people. And that is all I can ask for.”

“I appreciate your words, Prince Hanzo. It is nice to hear that someone shares my beliefs.” Satya said with a small smile.  She then somewhat hesitantly added, “Perhaps you could help me, if you are willing?”

“I’m sorry. I do not know what you are asking for.”

“I’ve heard stories about the Shimadas and their prowess in battle. Of how you can wield a spirit dragon to aid you when you are most desperate.” Satya said. “Although you may not classify it as such, that sounds like an enchantment to me.”

Within an instant, Hanzo grew wary of this woman. Apparently Gibraltan is full of gossipers, as it sounded like almost everyone knew about the Shimada’s biggest secret. And Hanzo was not stupid; Satya was an inquisitive woman. Who knew how much she would be able to gather with just the smallest amount of details? On instinct Hanzo went to rub at his tattoo, which didn’t go unnoticed by Satya.

“If it isn’t too much to ask, my I see your left arm?” Satya asked.

Begrudgingly, Hanzo rolled up his sleeve to his elbow, allowing for Satya to examine part of the tattoo. Hopefully she wouldn’t be able to comprehend all that she’d ask to see. Carefully, and without touching his skin, Satya gasped from awe of the incredibly detailed tattoo. Hanzo could see the amazement in her eyes, and he promptly averted his gaze.

“This is more than what I could have hoped for. Do you realize you are a _living enchantment_ , Prince Hanzo?” Satya said softly, as if she were mostly talking to herself. “Does your brother have one as well?”

Hanzo grumbled out his answer. “Yes, although it is on his right arm.”

“Amazing. Simply amazing.” Satya muttered.

A few minutes passed as she examined Hanzo’s arm. Soon Hanzo was growing uncomfortable, and he wished more than anything to cover his arm back up. This had gone on long enough, Hanzo imagined. He gave Satya a few more seconds with his tattoo before he began to roll down his sleeve. The woman looked disappointed, but said nothing about it.

“Hmmm. You have left me much to think about, Prince Hanzo.” Satya said. “Perhaps we can meet again so you can tell me about the process of how you earned that tattoo?”

Alarm bells were going off in Hanzo’s head, although he dared not show Satya how close she was to discovering a large portion of the Shimada’s biggest secret. Instead, Hanzo crossed his arms and gave the woman a cold look.

“I’m afraid I cannot do that, Miss Vaswani. There are sacred laws in Hanamura that prevent me of telling you such. Punishable by death. I have already shown you more than I should, and you should be content with that.” Hanzo stated, his voice confident.

“Secrets will not win us the War, Prince Hanzo. Perhaps you should think of it like that.” Satya said, trying her best to persuade the man.

Coldly, Hanzo glared at the woman. His patience for her was thinning out. “I thought I made myself clear, Miss Vaswani. I said no.”

“Very well. Just come by and visit me if you change your mind—”

Suddenly, there was the echo of a far off horn. Captain Morrison, who had been quiet for some time, finally perked up. Hanzo turned to look at him, and found that Captain Morrison had an expression of worry. Another horn went off, this time much closer than before. And then another followed suit, and another.

Without warning, Captain Morrison sprung into action, leaving the forge in a sprint. Hanzo, who had no idea what was happening, followed him, forgetting about Satya and her invasive questions. The two men raced to the front steps of the palace, where Hanzo found Commander Gérard, and even Queen Ana and Sir Reinhardt. All three of them were hastily making their way out of the palace and towards the top of the steps.

“Jack, what is it?” Ana shouted out to their approaching forms. She looked incredibly concerned.

“I don’t know. It can’t be good, whatever it is.” Captain Morrison answered, sounding slightly out of breath.

The sound of horns grew louder, and as Hanzo finally stopped by Morrison’s side, he spotted a fast approaching horse and rider. The Palace Gate immediately opened up for the new arriver before swiftly closing behind him. The air between the entire Royal Court grew tense with a mix of anxiety and fear. Some of them already knew what was fast approaching, and dreaded the confirmation.

“It’s a ranger, from the north.” Reinhardt stated, crossing his arms as he frowned.

The horse slowed to a trot, and Hanzo was able to make out its rider. It was a well armored man, however the leather armor and red cloak he wore were singed, covered in dirt and dried blood. He was injured, but from here it was impossible to tell how gravely. A hat covered the man’s face, but Hanzo could spot the shaggy beard the man sported. And the man looked tired, exhausted from the ride, bouncing with each rough step his horse took.

“By the Creator, it’s Jesse.” Ana gasped in shock.

The queen approached the horse without much more thought, grabbing its reins as if to steady the beast. The horse did what the queen wanted, calming enough for the man to dismount it. The man, Jesse apparently, practically collapsed in the queen’s arms from exhaustion, and Hanzo could tell how close to tears the woman was. Whoever this ranger was, he meant a lot to Queen Ana.

Ana helped the man up the stairs, but halfway up Jesse motioned to her that he was just going to sit down right where he stood. Carefully, Ana let Jesse sit down on the steps, and he finally took off his hat as if to let his hair breathe. Ana motioned for those of her court who were here to join her, and they did so, Hanzo included.

“Jesse, what happened to you?” Ana asked once she was sure everyone could hear her.

“There was an am-ambush. Omn… Omnics from a scouting ppp-party.” Jesse said, his voice rough from sleep deprivation. His words were jumbled, and most were inaudible. “I managed to make it out… Commander Brooks was a Creator damned miracle.  But it’s bad, really bad, Ana.”

“Slow down, son. What happened?” Captain Morrison said, kneeling down next to Jesse. He pulled a water skin from his belt and handed it to the other man. Jesse readily accepted it and drank so fast that he choked up some of the water. “You’re no good to me dead, son, so _slow down_.”

Jesse nodded, taking in a slow breath as if to calm himself.

“Two nights ago I spotted an approaching Omnic war party. On my way to inform the nearest watchtower, I was ambushed by two Fiends and a Pawn. It was dangerous, but I managed to slay the Omnics with Commander Brooks’ help.” Jesse said, trying his best to keep his words slow and deliberate. “Once the medics at the watchtower were sure I was stable, I rode here to tell you that we’re about to have company.”

“The Omnics are here?” Captain Morrison asked, just to be certain.

Jesse nodded. “Up at the foothills of the Hawth Mountains. I couldn’t get a good look at their numbers, but I’d reckon it’s a lot. More so than the usual amount. The Northern Watchtower is fortifying the area, but they’re only buying us enough time for the main forces to arrive.”

That was all of Jesse’s report, for soon after that the man bent backwards and closed his eyes. It was apparent how badly this ranger needed his rest, and Hanzo wondered just how long had he travelled with this message.

“How far away are the Hawth Mountains?” Hanzo asked, looking up to Captain Morrison.

“About a 3 days journey, with periodic stops in between.” Captain Morrison said. He then shook his head before anxiously rubbing at his temples. Hanzo could practically see the stress that was beginning to roll off the Captain’s shoulders. “But knowing Jesse, he didn’t stop until Port City was on the horizon. No wonder why he collapsed as soon as he got the word out.”

“I’m still awake, you know that Jack.” Jesse muttered, his eyes still closed.

“Well, am I right or what, McCree?” Captain Morrison said with a raised eyebrow.

“Ugh. Yes, you are.” The ranger admitted.

“I’m always right. Now get up, let’s get you to a doctor so they can get a look at you.” Captain Morrison said.

Together with the help of Gérard, Captain Morrison helped Jesse McCree up from his position on the steps. They had one of his arms each propped over their shoulders, and they helped as the exhausted man climbed up the stairs and into the Stone Palace. A few times the poor man tripped over his own feet, but with the help of the other men he managed to stay upright.

The whole court followed him, save for Hanzo, who paused just long enough to hear the growing rumbles of thunder. He looked to the east, towards the black storm clouds that had engulfed the horizon. A flash of lightning struck somewhere off into the Black Ocean, and Hanzo couldn’t help but think of a more ominous warning the Creator was sending them. Just as a trickle of rain started to fall over Port City, Hanzo joined the others in the Stone Palace’s Main Hall.

Hanzo watched as Morrison and Gérard helped Jesse off into a part of the palace that he hadn’t been into before. The remainder of the court was headed to the Throne Room, where they would converse together on what would be their best course of action. Hanzo followed those into the Throne Room, where he found not only Queen Ana and Sir Reinhardt, but Torbjörn and Satya as well. Everyone sat in a heavy silence as they patiently waited for the other two men to join them.

“Hanzo, do you know where your brother is?” Ana turned to face him, her face still wrought with worry. “He should be here for this.”

At the mention of his younger brother, Hanzo took a look around the room. That’s right, Genji wasn’t here, and Hanzo internally berated himself. Hanzo almost groaned; one again Genji’s proven that he’s never where he needed to be, the self-centered, spoiled brat of a younger brother.

“No, but Genji has an unnatural knack of avoiding crucial meetings. I will find him after this.” Hanzo said. And when he found his brother, he was going to have some choice words for him.

“Amélie is missing as well.” Sir Reinhardt voiced his observation. “Should we wait for them, my lady.”

“No,” Queen Ana shook her head, “we cannot afford time to wait. Because we need to prepare to march for war.”

 

* * *

 

Unfortunately, Genji was not in the Stone Palace when the ranger from the north arrived. Nor was he in the Upper District for starters.

Amélie had approached him late last night, right before they were all to retire for bed. At first, Genji had thought she was there to accuse him of witchcraft, as the two had avoided each other since that horrible encounter on the first night. But this was not the case, as Amélie had clearly tried her best to avoid that confrontation. For that, Genji was incredibly grateful.

No, Instead Amélie had approached him to offer him a day out in the City, far away from the Stone Palace. A day where they could both pretend to be strangers, commoners that have never lived a day in high society. A day where they didn’t have to constantly worry about the country’s state of affairs.

Genji was quick to accept her offer.

“Then meet me in the back of the servant’s quarters after breakfast tomorrow.” Amélie had said before they parted for the night. “Don’t ask questions, and don’t tell anyone about this.” 

Genji had a hard time falling asleep that night from the anticipation.

At breakfast he did his best to seem like his usual self. Amélie spent this morning with her husband before his shift, the two wrapped together like two love birds, meaning that Genji was left alone with Hanzo. Hanzo was, of course, rattling on about the duties he was asked to attend to today: talking with the royal blacksmith, seeing to new possible trade routes with Her Majesty, and more things Genji could scarcely remember.

When asked about his own duties, Genji was quick to make up a story about promising Gérard that he would show Hanamuran sword techniques to some of the new recruits, and then after that spend the rest of the day in the palace’s grand library, reading upon Gibraltan’s history. This answer was sufficient enough for Hanzo, who continued on to another topic.

But as soon as Amélie had excused herself, kissing her husband goodbye, Genji was quick to follow her fleeting form. Thankfully no one had noticed his urgency to leave. Genji followed Amélie, tailing her from behind as if to make sure she didn’t notice how anxious he was to leave. However she did notice, because somehow she noticed _everything._

“Genji, I know that you are following me.” Amélie said without looking behind. “If you are going to be this obvious, let’s at least walk together.”

After that, Genji sheepishly joined up with her. And they walked the rest of the way in silence.

If any of the servants were surprised to find both of them within their quarters, they didn’t voice their concern. Instead they looked away, as if they believed if they didn’t actively see the two of them, then they weren’t there. Out of sight, out of mind. Genji turned to look at Amélie, raising an eyebrow in befuddlement. Amélie only smiled and put a finger over her dark red lips.

Amélie led him into a small storage room. There were no windows in the room, and only the one door, which Amélie promptly closed behind them. The two were shrouded in darkness for a brief second, only for Amélie to light a match. She found a lantern and lit it, allowing for the whole room to glow in the soft yellow light.

“What are we doing here, Amélie?” Genji asked quietly, as if hoping no one from outside the room would hear him.

“We are waiting for a friend of mine. She should arrive shortly.” Amélie said as she sat down on a box, her large ruffled dress moving with the motion. “Although, she does have a history of running late. So it may be best to sit down and get comfortable.”

Genji did just that, sliding against a wall until he reached the ground. He brought his arms around his legs, hugging them close to him. And then he waited. They ended up waiting for almost half an hour before there was a soft knock on the door.

Amélie got up quickly. Before opening the door, she tapped on the door herself in a pattern that Genji was unfamiliar with. The person on the other side answered the pattern with their own, and Genji could see the smile that blossomed on Amélie’s face. Without further adieu, Amélie opened the door.

“It’s about time, Lena. We were waiting forever in here.” Amélie said in a hushed tone.

“Sorry, love. I couldn’t get away from your hubby and his drills fast enough. And you didn’t bother telling me his size.” A woman answered her, her voice higher and much more cheerful than Amélie’s. “This will have to do, because I don’t have much time to spare. Or any at all, really.”

Amélie ushered the woman inside, and Genji took in her appearance. She was short and slim, the body of an experienced athlete, of a long distance sprinter. She wore leather armor instead of the common plated metal armor the palace guards did. So she was probably a scout, or a new recruit hired on. In her arms were several articles of clothing, all were bare of intricate details and instead made of the cheapest materials. Commoner’s clothing.

The woman noticed his stares and smiled to him. She waved as she spoke, waving a hand towards him. “Oh, so this is the prince you mentioned! Never met a prince before, yeah? So what’s his name, Amélie?”

“Genji. My name is Genji.” Genji said as he picked himself up from the ground. He bowed for her. “An honor to make your acquaintance, miss.”

“Oh gee. He’s… uh, he’s bowing to me. Never expected royalty to bow to me. Feels kinda weird. Is he supposed to do that?” The woman prattled on, showing how uncomfortable she was. When Amélie only chuckled in response, the woman started to blush. “Um, my name is Lena, your highness. And it’s an honor to meet you too.”

“Relax, my friend. Genji won’t bite.” Amélie said, her voice still full of amusement. “And I’m sure the clothes you got for him will fit.”

“Oh, that’s a relief then. Here you go, mate.” Lena said, handing Amélie the bundle of clothing she held in her arms. “I’ll… uh, I’ll wait out here until you two are done changing.”

And with that, Lena left the room. Genji approached Amélie, who was still smiling as Lena closed the door behind her. Amélie looked over to Genji before chuckling again, handing him part of the stack of clothes.

“She seems nice.” Genji said as he looked at the clothes Amélie handed him. “And young.”

“She is, young enough to still be impressionable. Now turn around and get dressed. And if I see you sneaking a glance, I’ll skin you alive. Royalty or not.” Amélie warned as she turned around and headed further into the room.

Genji truly believed her threat, and he did as he was asked. He turned around and took a look at the clothes she had given him. There was a rough, plain cotton tunic that had been dyed green. A leather vest, extremely worn in some areas; whoever owned this before wore it for several years. The pants were made of the same material as the tunic, colored beige. There was also a simple, worn belt, and a small strip of fabric that Genji knew he should tie around his head to push back his too long hair. No boots, so he would have to use his own despite how nice they were in comparison to these garments.

Without much more thought about it, Genji stripped down and started pulling on the new clothes. The itch of the fabric reminded him of his deck clothes aboard the ship, so the change from his fine silks did not cause too much discomfort. His tattoo was also covered, which was a small miracle itself. Genji had no idea how common tattoos were among the commoners of Gibraltan, especially ones that were as detailed as his.

As he tied the strip of fabric around his head, Genji hesitated about turning around. He did not want to disturb Amélie if she was still in the process of changing.

“Amélie, are you finished?” Genji whispered.

“Hold on one moment…” Amélie grunted. There was the sound of a few more grunts and then the woman let out a frustrated sigh. “Usually Lena helps me with this, but perhaps you can be of assistance?”

Genji took that as permission to turn around, only to be surprised by Amélie’s transformation. Gone was her light blue, silk ruffled dress and glittery jewelry; they were discarded carelessly in the corner. Instead, Amélie wore a stark white poet’s shirt with a dark brown wool skirt that traveled down to her ankles. A bodice clung loosely to her body, the cords of it undone. She was without her makeup, which was an unusual sight in itself. Amélie’s hair was done up and hidden with a tied orange cloth, only a few black curls were visible beside her ears.

“Genji. Can you help me?” Amélie asked, snapping the man out of his stupor. She was holding her loose bodice, as if to further prove her point.

“Uh, right. Yes.” Genji said, albeit somewhat shamefully.

Genji was quick to help her. With Amélie’s careful instruction, Genji was able to tie the bodice together well enough that it wouldn’t come undone. After they were finished, Amélie gave Genji a once over, perhaps checking to see if he looked “common” enough.

“There’s something missing. Perhaps a scarf would finish your outfit.” Amélie said. She then undid the orange cloth in her hair and then handed it to Genji. Her loose curls fell to her shoulders, but Amélie didn’t seem to care. “I think this will help. Orange is not my color anyways.”

Genji shrugged as he took the offered cloth and loosely wrapped it around his neck a couple times. After this, Amélie was smiling, seemingly content with this decision. She then made her way to the door and tapped on it again.

Lena didn’t even bother knocking herself as she entered the room. The woman let out a long whistle as she took the two in before grinning.

“Wow, you two look completely different. Unrecognizable even! But that’s the point, eh?” Lena said, most likely speaking to herself. “Well, you’re off to spend the day out on the town, so let’s get you two out the door while the coast is still clear.”

They exited the servant’s quarters without a problem, as most of the occupants readily assumed that they were staff members themselves, ready to enjoy a day off in the city’s lower districts. It was a somewhat bizarre experience for Genji; back in Hanamura, he had some experience when it came to sneaking out and getting into trouble, but he never hid his identity. Genji had always been the bothersome younger prince, always finding somewhere to cause trouble in Hanamura’s capital. But now there would be a sense of anonymity.

And Genji was thrilled to experience it.

Amélie took the lead, only pausing once to remind Genji that they had to remain silent and to be extra cautious as to not to alert anyone to their true identity, especially while they remained in the Upper District. Lena bade them a quick farewell before they parted ways. The young woman headed back towards the guard barracks, only pausing to give them a quick thumbs up for encouragement.

The two were silent as they made their way out of the Stone Palace’s grounds, keeping their heads down as they passed the gate’s guards. And Genji was shocked to find the guards did not even give them a passing glance. He hoped he was hiding his surprise, and he did not dare risk a quick peek at Amélie. He could already see how stiff her spine was, how nervous she was in this exact moment.

But then they passed through the front gates. And they kept on walking. With that, the Stone Palace was quickly disappearing behind the surrounding buildings.

Amélie smiled, visibly relieved. She clutched Genji’s elbow and hurried him down the streets. She turned back, slowing her steps slightly, to speak with him.

“Come. We must hurry lest we be late for the main festivities.” Amélie said, a sense of urgency and excitement in her voice. She was practically vibrating with energy, almost acting like a young child. Genji quickly realized he didn’t know how old Amélie was; he had thought she was much older than him, but now? He did not know. “We don’t want to miss anything.”

Genji let out a small laugh; he was just as excited as she was. “You haven’t even told me where you’re taking me.”

“We’re going down to the Harbor District.” Amélie informed him. She flashed another smile before continuing. “To the _Sly Fox Tavern_.”

The walk down and through the city was almost mesmerizing. At first glance, Port City had looked smaller in size than Hanamura, but Genji was quick to realize that this wasn’t necessarily the case. Every district that they passed through was crowded, homes and shops stacked on one another, hugging the cliff’s face, some only accessible by stairs or ladders. But it wasn’t claustrophobic. Genji realized that whoever had designed the architecture of the city was a genius, utilizing every small space to its full potential.

The city walkways were flooded with people and horse drawn carts. People of all races could be found here, having found a new home here when Port City was first founded as a colonized trading port. The sounds of so many voices would have been deafening to Genji if he wasn’t so mesmerized with this completely new experience. Children playfully screamed and sang in the back streets, instruments were playing lively dancing tunes from bards that wandered around every so often, and there were the calls of seagulls up above. Amélie didn’t seem fazed by the madness, instead she almost seemed enthralled. 

A few merchants were peddling their wares on the streets that they passed through, and despite Amélie’s somewhat carefully hidden impatience, Genji found himself stopping to look at every single one. There was an elderly woman with a soft smile who sold fresh candy, and she managed to convince Genji to buy a small pouch of fresh cookies. Another, a man with a graying handlebar mustache was showing off colorful, exotic birds. But Amélie was quick to drag Genji away before he made a purchase he knew he would instantly regret later.

But what caught Genji’s eye almost instantly was a shop called the _Honeybee Salon_.

Amélie still had a tight hold of Genji’s arm, as if to lead him, but even she came to a sudden standstill as Genji froze in the middle of the busy street. He had seen out of the corner of his eyes bright colors that he would have expected from the exotic birds from earlier. But instead, Genji was amazed to see that it was not feathers, but _hair._

His feet brought him towards the front door, and he was able to see the workers inside, masterfully working their craft with their patron’s hair. There were so many bright, vivid colors that Genji thought would have been unattainable. Reds the color of fresh strawberries, the yellows of dandelions, cherry blossom pinks. His eyes kept drifting specifically to one brilliant shade of green that one woman was slaving over. It looked almost magical, almost like the scales of his chosen Dragon.

“Amélie, what is this?” Genji muttered, almost short of breath from his amazement. He quickly glanced back to check on the woman. “I’ve never seen anything like this back home.”

“A dying salon. They’re quite popular here, for those who can afford it.” Amélie answered him. She then looked slightly irritated when one of the workers looked up from her work and spotted them, and was then visibly trying to decide if they were paying customers. “Unfortunately, since _we_ are but simple, _poor farmers_ , we cannot.”

“…oh…” That’s right; he had already forgotten. They had to pretend to be commoners.

Amélie noticed how quickly Genji had deflated, and she looked almost guilty. She sighed before adding. “But… maybe if we save up on money, _maybe_ we can come back on our next visit.”

Genji couldn’t help but grin from the prospect, and the two left the _Honeybee Salon_ without much more convincing on Amélie’s part.

It was perhaps another half an hour of a journey before they reached their destination. This place, the _Sly Fox Tavern_ , was located directly on a pier, where the smell and spray of the ocean was potent. As well as the stench of rotting fish. Genji noticed that most of the people in this district were workers, sailors that were currently docked or deckhands that were enjoying the new weekend. Already the _Sly Fox Tavern_ was booming with life.

They were greeted by the rowdy music that echoed out of the tavern, and before Amélie could lead the two of them inside, she escorted Genji to the other side of the street.

“Amélie, how did you ever find this place?” Genji asked before Amélie could start herself.

“Well… how I find most things: wandering through places a woman of high society should not be.” Amélie answered with a shrug. Almost immediately after that, a spark of recollection dazzled on Amélie’s eyes. “Also, before I forget. When we enter this place, my name is not Amélie. It is Esmé. And you are… hmm. You are Kaiden.”

“Okay, why the fake names?” Genji asked, still quite confused but ultimately deciding to go along with it.

“I have friends in there, good friends that are kind and simple. And they do not know who I am. They can _never_ know who we are.” Amélie explained. Her words were hushed, and she spent a few spare seconds looking over both shoulders, just to be sure no one was listening in on their conversation. “I’m risking a lot right now for trusting you with this secret. Promise me that you’ll do your best to not betray my trust.”

Realizing how serious Amélie was, Genji nodded and then crossed a finger over his heart. Amélie couldn’t help but smile as she nodded in thanks.

Quickly, Amélie went through the fake identity she had created for herself for the past few years. All in all, Genji could see that was simple, and easily believable. She was Esmé, the wife of a farmer, who was the love of her life. They lived on a small farm to the northwest in the distant village of Erivelle, and every month or so they make the four day journey to sell their crops in Port City. When her husband is off conducting business, Esmé visits the _Sly Fox Tavern_ until sundown, when she meets up with her husband for the long road home.

“And I guess… hmm. I guess you can be our new farmhand. A young man we took in when your own farm burned down.” Amélie contemplated, chewing her bottom lip as she thought. She then looked up at Genji, seemingly asking for his opinion. “Does that work for you?”

“Err, will your friends ask me about farming?” Genji asked, uncertain. He was trained in the art of war, not in the art of agriculture. The only good a shovel would do for him would be as an improvised weapon.

“If they do, let me worry about that. But can you pretend to be Kaiden the farmhand? For me?” Amélie pressed.

At that, Genji gave her a determined nod. “Yes.”

Pleased with his answer, Amélie smiled and led him through the tavern’s front door. And not a moment too soon, for there was a deep rumbling of thunder that followed them from outside, and then the sound of cold rain pelting the pier in harsh drops.

The music that Genji had noticed earlier was their first greeting. It was loud and boisterous, lively dancing music that had the tavern’s patrons dancing erratically and drunkenly. Drunken shouts pierced Genji’s hearing, and the floor felt sticky with spilt alcohol underneath his feet. The place was dimly lit; the windows had been sealed from the oncoming storm off the coast and only a few lanterns were lit in their stead.

Genji paused to look at the patrons. He noticed his clothing was not quite different from those he was surrounded by. Amélie had been smart to get them different clothes, and as long as Genji didn’t act with the manners that had been strictly taught to him, he would most definitely blend in. It was a good thing Genji barely acted with those manners to begin with.

If Genji hadn’t kept a close eye on Amélie, he would have lost her completely as she ran through the crowd, effectively leaving him behind. He trailed after her fleeting form, and then he heard a woman cry out in a mixture of surprise and glee. Genji paused in his approach when he saw Amélie in an embrace with an older woman, the two practically vibrating with genuine happiness.

“My goodness!” The older woman laughed out. She let go of Amélie just long enough to check on her face, and then she hugged her again. “Esmé, we haven’t seen you in so long! We were beginning to worry about you.”

“You worry too much, Ingrid.” Amélie said, changing her tone to mask some of her accent. Her voice was much gruffer, acting as if she spent a lot of time yelling, and she made her R’s a bit harder. Amélie sounded nothing like her usual self. “I am fine. We just had much to do on the farm, and we had celebrated the _Canciones de la Creación in our home town.”_

“In Erivelle? Eh, but nothin’ beats the festivities in Port City, you and your husband should know that by now.” Said a man that Genji hadn’t realized been part of the conversation. He was short and incredibly tan, with skin beginning to wrinkle from being out in the sun for far too long. He must have been a fisherman. “Me an’ the kids were even able to spend a night up in that ol’ palace. Saw the good Queen Ana even.”

At this Amélie laughed, although Genji was able to spot some of her apprehension at the mention of Queen Ana.

“I’m sure that must have been quite a sight. But we had just as much fun in Erivelle.” Amélie said and hastily added a fake laugh. She then spotted at Genji and motioned him forward. “Here, I want you all to meet someone.”

Genji was hesitant to join them, especially now that these two strangers had their eyes glued onto him. They didn’t seem to be judging him, but there was definitely some cautious curiosity between the two. Suddenly he had the feeling that this was all a mistake. Genji may be mischievous, a good liar even, but he was never a good actor. Neither was Hanzo, really. Still, when he saw Amélie’s impatient expression, he yielded and entered the fray.

“Greetings.” Genji said with a small smile and a bow. He quickly looked up at Amélie to see if he was doing okay so far, only to be given a subtle nod of encouragement. “I am G— Kaiden.”

Here, Amélie spoke up; she brought a hand on his shoulder and helped him back up. Hopefully she would forgive him for the almost slip of his tongue. “Kaiden is our new farmhand. His own farm had burnt down several weeks ago, and me and my husband took him in until he can save up enough funds to rebuild.”

It was the man that answered first. “A fine ‘how do you do’ to you, Kaiden. I’m Rufio.” He stuck out a hand and Genji accepted it. Genji was unsurprised to find the man’s hand was tough and calloused. “A friend of Esmé’s is a friend o’ mine.”

“Aye, you’re welcome to the _Sly Fox Tavern_ anytime.” Ingrid agreed.

“My thanks.” Genji said kindly. He then decided to add, “I’ve never been to Port City before. It is amazing here.”

He earned a laugh, and Rufio answered him. “It’s the best city on this side o’ the Black Ocean. Anyone who says otherwise is full of shite.”

“Kaiden wanted to see the city before the harvest season.” Amélie added. “And I said to him, ‘I know where the best place to go is’.”

“Well, I tell you what,” Ingrid started, “As the proprietor of this fine establishment, the first drink is on the house. Now go, enjoy yourself.”

With an encouraging nod, Amélie wordlessly allowed Genji free reign of his time here. She herself stayed with Rufio and Ingrid, who all sat down by a table near the small stage. A few bards were still playing a dancing piece, but the flutist noticed her arrival and jumped down from the stage and went to hug Amélie as well before rejoining his musical party. Genji didn’t wish to intrude anymore than he already had, and he headed towards the bar counter.

The woman behind the counter had heard Ingrid’s decree, and she had already prepared a flagon of whatever for Genji. Without saying anything save for a simple thanks, Genji took the flagon and began to drink, only to notice that whatever alcohol it was, it was _delicious._ It was cold, chilled somehow enough to have the metal flagon condensate, but the drink itself was almost spicy.

It was almost addicting.

In the end, Genji had five more helpings over the course of two hours. The only reason he had stopped was because he had already spent the majority of his pocket money. By the time he was finished, Genji knew he was past the borderline of being drunk. Perhaps he was even blackout drunk. But he didn’t care, because that meant that he was fully prepared to enjoy this, consequences be damned.

In his drunken state, Genji fell into his old ways. He quickly found a pretty young woman and had effortlessly convinced her to dance with him. He barely knew the dances, but that was little deterrent for Genji as he laughed when his feet almost brought him tumbling down time and time again. Yet it only encouraged him to try harder when his partner laughed with him, blushing slightly. In the end, he had even managed a quick kiss with her before she departed for the night.

Genji sang with the bards as well, remembering some of the songs from his time working on the ship. This only encouraged the rest of the drunken crowd to join in as well, and soon the entirety of the tavern was shaking from the uproar. Even drunk, Genji could feel the vibrations of the music, of the singing. It was tingling the hairs on his arms and neck. Genji made the sound conclusion that Gibraltans sure knew how to party.

Later in the night, in his drunken stupor, Genji acted on a sudden urge and climbed onto the stage. Instead of being escorted off, the bards patted him on the back and started playing another song. It was another song he was unfamiliar with, so in the end he resorted to performing a well known Hanamuran dance, one that he hadn’t seen yet in the past hour or so. He was cheered on by the crowd, and Genji laughed as he spun around, drenched in sweat and soaked in alcohol.

Soon after, he spotted Amélie watching him in dazzling wonder. He waved at her, shouting above the crowd “Come join me!”

“You are insane!” Amélie answered him with a short laugh. “And drunk!”

“Who cares?! Now come join me!”

And surprisingly, Ingrid and Rufio helped encourage Amélie up the stage as well. The flutist paused in his music and helped her up, and Amélie quickly accepted his offered hand.

“I thought you would know better than to encourage this sort of behavior, Paul.” Amélie said to the flutist. Genji quickly realized that this must have been another one of her secret friends. How many more did she know by name?

“What can I say, my dear Esmé? As a bard, I give what the crowd demands.” The bard, Paul, said with a teasing smile. “And the crowd demands you.”

The crowd cheered again, which made Amélie blush in slight embarrassment.

“Okay, I’m up here. Now what Kaiden?” Amélie asked as she finally turned around to face him.

It took Genji a few seconds to respond, having already forgotten his fake identity. “Dance with me! It’ll be fun!”

Ultimately Amélie decided to go with it, and she accepted Genji’s hand. The band started to play another fast paced song, and the two began to dance. Both had started at weird intervals, and were completely off rhythm from one another. But soon, the two settled into a pattern and swung an arm together at each, interlocked by the elbows as they spun in a circle. Below, the crowd followed suit, pairing up into twos and dancing with as much elegance as Genji was. Which was to say none at all.

Genji was almost amazed to see how lively Amélie was in this moment. Even when she was pretending to be Esmé, she had been reserved. But now, her body was almost instinctively responding to the dance, and she had transformed into another person entirely. It was clear that Amélie was a master in the art of dance, and Genji knew he looked like an inebriated cow next to her. But in the end it didn’t matter, because he was _drunk,_ and both of them were having _fun_.

“You know, you’re a really great dancer.” Genji drunkenly shouted his opinion over the roaring music.

Amélie laughed. “I know, and you’re turning out to be a great friend.”

Genji beamed at the compliment. He had a _friend_.

Oh, if Hanzo saw him now he would be royally furious.

Hours had passed by effortlessly. Once both Genji and Amélie were too tired to dance any further, they sat down at an unoccupied table. There they were joined by Ingrid, Rufio, and Paul. Even without their flutist, the band of bards continued to play dancing music. All five spent the next few hours talking together, and Genji found that even when drunk he fit well with the others, almost as if they were all old friends. For those hours, he completely forgot that he wasn’t Kaiden the farmhand. It was almost magical.

Time was forgotten, and by the time Genji and Amélie bade farewell with her friends and left the _Sly Fox Tavern_ , the sun had long since set on the western horizon. It had grown dark, the storm clouds before were nowhere in sight. The ground itself was still wet from the heavy rain, however. Genji would have to be careful about tripping into a puddle of mud.

The two friends rushed through the streets to make their way back to the Stone Palace. Genji was still slightly inebriated, and Amélie was high on giddiness. Even now, Genji could see the grin that was still plastered on her face, and knew that it had been there for the entirety of their time at the tavern.

They were laughing and talking like kids that had snuck out of their house, parents unaware of their whereabouts. And to the patrolling city guards, they were just young adolescents, breaking their curfew.

“Oh wait, Amélie, I just had a thought.” Genji said, stopping in his tracks just as they entered the Upper District. “How are we going to sneak back in? The palace gates must be closed and locked for the night.”

Amélie seemed unfazed by this question. “Well, can you climb?”

“Pfft. Can I _climb_?” Of course Genji could climb, he was a Shimada.

“I am assuming that you mean yes, then.” Amélie said through an exhausted sigh. “We’re going to need to climb over the wall, and hopefully we won’t be spotted by guards on the other side.”

Fortunately for the two of them, the guards were supposedly in the middle of changing shifts, because there was no one stationed by the palace’s outer walls. Genji was quick to offer Amélie a boost, and she managed to vault over the stone wall before landing on the other side with a soft _oof_. Once the woman was able to determine that the coast was clear, Genji effortlessly climbed the side of the stone wall. He landed beside Amélie like a graceful cat and then proceeded to dust off his hands by rubbing them against his pants.

Under the cover of darkness, the two snuck through the Stone Palace’s gardens. It was slightly unnerving to notice the disturbing lack of guards, but Genji ultimately decided to ignore this observation. It was just good luck; maybe they won’t be caught and punished for leaving the palace for the day. Genji couldn’t remember the last time he had been successful at leaving to spend a free day in Hanamura without his Elder’s catching word of his actions.

Genji was almost about to enter through the Palace’s front entrance before Amélie stopped him. She grabbed his elbow again, effectively stopping him in his tracks.

“Wait, not through there. We need to sneak up into our rooms.” Amélie explained.

“Oh, I guess that makes sense.” Genji said with a small shrug.

Amelie led him down around one of the wings of the Stone Palace. She was looking up above, mouth moving silently as she counted the balconies overhead. Genji realized that she was trying to determine which belonged to their rooms.  She stopped at the 6th one, and then pointed down to a few more.

“This one is mine. Your room should be the next two down.” Amélie explained. “Now go. Try to get some sleep before we’re questioned about our whereabouts tomorrow.”

But Genji wasn’t prepared to leave yet. He stood there before her, almost fidgeting in place. He needed to ask Amélie something before he forgot. Something that had been bothering for the past few days. When she noticed he had no intention of leaving yet, she looked at him with confusion blossoming on her face, followed closely with suspicion. She looked up at him, her mouth a hard, thin line.

“Wait, Amélie. Before I forget. I need to talk to you about what happened a few nights ago.” Genji asked, somewhat sheepishly. He had no earthly idea how to ask this without freaking her out. “You know, about the… the dragon?”

“Oh. That…” Amélie tapered off.

A few moments passed in relative silence. The sounds of the waves below and the late summer crickets’ chirps filled the air.

Amélie was averting eye contact with Genji. Genji realized that both of them were nervous about the subject. That was a small relief, at least.

“Genji, I don’t want to know too much about what happened. The less the better, to be truthful. But I thought… I thought that Shimada’s could only call for their spirit dragon in a time of great need? And only in battle?” Amélie finally began.

Genji winced at this, but decided to answer her nonetheless. “I’m guessing that’s what Father told Queen Ana and the others. Back when he spent time here. But that’s not… that’s not necessarily the case.”

“Genji.” Amélie started, a look a brief horror flashing over her face. “What are you saying?”

“My father lied.” Genji stated. He paused to allow Amélie to think about this. The world seemed to grow instantly silent as he watched her quickly changing expressions. Shock, mistrust, fear. He then quickly added without thinking, “I won’t say too much, but my father lied.”

“… Anytime?” Amélie forced herself to ask in a hushed whisper.

Genji knew what she was asking, but was afraid to actually say it. Anytime? You can call for it anytime? You can summon a magical beast anywhere and anytime you so pleased?

Genji hung his head in shame. “Anytime.”

A few more seconds passed as Genji was sure Amélie was judging him. He had no idea what would happen because of this. Maybe Amélie would go tell Queen Ana, and maybe Ana would have him and Hanzo exiled from Gibraltan. Best case scenario, possibly banishment from his home country as well. Or perhaps if word got back to Hanamura, the Elder’s would send an assassin to kill him, maybe even sending someone from within the family. He hoped to the Creator it wouldn’t be Father.

But then, Amélie did something that completely surprised him. She took him into a short, tight hug. And then she whispered something in his ear.

“Queen Ana must never know about this.” Amélie whispered, her voice holding a sense of urgency. She then let go of him and then made her way to the foundation of the balcony. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I trust you enough to bare the Shimada’s secret.”

Genji almost felt like crying. And perhaps he was, for he felt something hot start to drip down his cheeks. He quickly bowed before her. “Thank you.”

“You are my friend, Genji. I believe this is what friends do.” Amélie said with a kind smile. “Now go, go before someone catches us.”

Genji didn’t need any more convincing, and he left Amélie to make his way back to his own room.

Genji effortlessly climbed up and onto his own balcony. He spent a moment to see if Amélie had managed to do the same, and saw the faint outline of her form as she entered her and Gérard’s room. Genji spent another second to look towards the eastern horizon, seeing the reflection of the slim crescent moon on the choppy waves of the ocean.

All in all, despite everything, it was a good day.

However, that feeling was shattered almost instantly when Genji entered his room, only to freeze in his tracks. Even in the unlit room, Genji spotted the silhouette of his older brother sitting on the foot of his bed, waiting for him. And he looked exceptionally furious.

“ _Genji_. We need to talk.” Hanzo said through clenched teeth. 


	5. Chapter 5

Hanzo was absolutely furious.

“What were you even thinking!” Hanzo shouted, completely disregarding the hour of the night. Or was it even early in the morning at this point? Genji couldn’t tell and frankly he couldn’t care less. Hanzo stood up from his seat on Genji’s bed and crossed over towards him, pointing an accusatory finger at his younger brother. “We haven’t even spent a whole week in Gibraltan and you’ve already disrespected our family name!”

Genji cringed at the volume of his brother’s voice, a headache beginning to form just above his eyebrows. He was quick to close his eyes as he brushed by Hanzo somewhat forcefully, waving his older brother off. It turned out that maybe, just maybe, it had been a poor decision to drink so much alcohol.

“What are you talking about? It was just a little, harmless fun.” Genji groaned as he sat down on his bed. By the Creator, he didn’t need a lecture. He just wanted to sleep.

“ _Where. Were. You?!”_ Hanzo continued, completely ignoring Genji’s comment.

“Out. In the city. Where else would I be?”

“ _Here_ , performing your expected duties. Where you belong.” Hanzo answered, snapping at Genji with as much ferocity as a cornered dragon. “Or have you forgotten that?!”

Hanzo suddenly realized how angry he was becoming, and he stopped himself from going any further, lest he awaken the slumbering dragons beneath his skin. Hanzo let out a long, deep sigh as he rubbed at his temples. He began to pace in front of Genji. He was muttering under his breath, but Genji didn’t care enough to pay attention to what his brother was saying.

“You can’t keep doing this, Genji.” Hanzo finally stated, his tone of voice much softer than before, but just as serious. He sounded like a disappointed parent. “We’re the heirs to the Shimada throne. We’ve got a responsibility to our people and our allies.”

At this Genji rolled his eyes, and he was smugly delighted by the look of pure frustration on Hanzo’s face.

“Correction: _you’re_ the heir.” Genji then pointed out, his own irritation palpable in his voice. It was here that Genji pointed his own finger at Hanzo. Genji’s temper was rising to match Hanzo’s. “The Elders have always made that clear. I’m just the little brother, the _spare_ in case anything ever happened to you.”

“Genji, you’re delusional. That’s not true and you should know that.” Hanzo argued. He was frowning again, looking years older than he should. It was the same frown Father wore when he grew livid, and Genji hated being the focus of it. “If you think that’s what the Elders have been trying to teach you for _25 years_ , then you are sorely mistaken. I’m not surprised that this is another lesson that you neglected to learn from them.”

“Ugh… your point?” Genji muttered, bringing his face into his hands.

“That the time of these… childish endeavors are over. You need to grow up, face some accountability and work with others.” Hanzo explained. He let out another sigh. And then Genji quickly recognized his expression, and instantly regretted this entire conversation. “Father spoils you, but he is not here.”

Genji couldn’t help but let out an irritated whine. It was always, _always_ about Father with Hanzo. “So what, are you going to discipline me?”

“If I must, then I will. I _am_ your older brother, or have you also forgotten that?”

“ _By the Creator_ , when did you become _such_ a parent, Hanzo?!”

“When our mother died!”

Whatever retort Genji had prepared, it was forgotten instantly. Genji turned to look at his brother, and he saw the disappointment that had spread across Hanzo’s face. But he could also see concern, and a hint of sadness. Hanzo quickly turned away, almost ashamed to show such feelings even to his brother. Hanzo turned and made his way out to the balcony, escaping whatever fallout was to come from this horrible argument.

The coastal breeze from outside fluttered the window’s curtains as Hanzo left. Genji watched as Hanzo walked towards the paling and leaned against it. Hanzo then stared off into the vast horizon, out towards the ocean. Part of Genji just wanted to leave his brother be and wait for another explosive encounter when he wasn’t so tired. But another part urged him forward, just to make peace for once, before both of them were too full of pride and resentment to make amends.

Genji hadn’t realized that he was opening the balcony door until he was closing it behind him. The door made a small click as it shut, but Hanzo did not turn around to face Genji. And he did not move to recognize Genji’s presence as he went to stand next to him. Hanzo just kept his eyes on the far horizon.

For a brief moment, both brothers enjoyed the relative peace that they shared together. Both seemed to be too scared to break the tense silence. There was no greater sore subject than that of their mother.

Finally, Genji yielded with a short sigh.

“Neither of us have been the same since Mother passed.” Genji said softly, and he was almost certain Hanzo couldn’t hear it over the faint roar of the ocean below.

“No. we haven’t.” Hanzo agreed. He took a deep breath, but still didn’t take his eyes off of the Black Ocean.  Hanzo brought one hand up and wiped a forming tear off from his face. “And I fear it hasn’t been for the best either.”

Another pause.

“Hanzo… I know you want me to apologize.” Genji started. He paused when he couldn’t think of the right words, unsure of what else to say. This was hard for him, as he was not the type to admit guilt. Neither was Hanzo, really. “But, well… you know.”

“But Dragons are never known to apologize. It’s in our blood.” Hanzo said. He was nodding in understanding.

Hanzo finally turned around and faced Genji. Without any warning, Hanzo took Genji into a stiff, uncomfortable hug. Hanzo was so out of practice from showing physical affection that Genji found his arms were sore from the force of Hanzo’s hold. Before Genji could react, Hanzo was already gone, taking a few steps away as if to further separate each other. Genji was shocked; Hanzo was not the type to show affection.

“Father sent us here to work together.” Hanzo began. He was averting any eye contact with his younger brother, staring at the stone ground of the balcony. Yet his voice still carried a strong sense of confidence. “It seems I’ve forgotten that as well.”

Genji understood where Hanzo was coming from. “Maybe… maybe we need to start working on projects together, side by side.”

Hanzo nodded, ultimately deciding on something that had been chewing on his mind. “I’ll make an appeal to Queen Ana after the battle. If we both survive, hopefully we can—”

Hanzo was interrupted by Genji, who gasped in shock. “Wait. What battle? Are we going to war?”

“… Yes. If you had _been_ here at the Palace when the ranger from the north arrived earlier today, you would have known that.” Hanzo said. And since Hanzo was a master at holding petty grudges, he then added for good measure, “But since you are a _fool_ of a brother, you missed out on the War Council.”

“Wait Hanzo, _slow down_. Tell me _what happened_. What’s going on?” Genji said, jumping up off of the paling and making his way towards his brother. Genji placed a hand on Hanzo’s shoulder, hoping to tether him long enough to answer his questions. “What did I miss?”

“A large battalion of Omnics are amassing near Gibraltan’s northern boarders.” Hanzo stated. Hanzo looked regretful but determined concurrently as he stared straight into Genji’s eyes. And through all that, Genji could see how scared his older brother truly was. “Tomorrow at daybreak, we march for war.”

* * *

 

Jack hated the waiting.

The journey itself to the front line wasn’t pleasurable either, but at least then there were simple tasks to perform and squadrons to keep in line. He could keep busy, make his mind numb while he focused on completing those simple tasks. It was better than thinking. Because thinking led to remembering.

But now they were here, on the threshold of the battle. And Jack couldn’t stop himself from looking back through a decade’s worth of war campaigns. He had led every single one, commanded Gibraltan’s finest, and survived even the bloodiest of skirmishes. But no matter what, there was always a sliver of doubt whispering in his ears: _have I done enough? What would have Gabe done better?_

Usually Jack shrugged off these thoughts; his soldiers needed him levelheaded, not moping in self-pity. And most times he was able to compartmentalize these thoughts into a smaller section of his mind, saving them for later, when the lives of thousands weren’t depending on him. Too bad there never seemed to _be_ a time for later.

Jack plucked himself out of these thoughts, and instead focused on the men and women under his command. It was the eve of battle, and it had left everyone on edge, silent and jumpy. It didn’t matter how seasoned they were, each and every soldier was scared to face the next day, haunted by the idea that they might not live to see the setting sun. Everywhere Jack looked, they all wore the same expression of grim acceptance. This was not their first battle, and all prayed to the Creator that it wouldn’t be their last.

The main camp had been set up earlier that day, encompassing a small farming village by the name of Tivan. The fields that usually held corn and wheat were now barren save for the white tents that dotted the landscape. Jack’s tent was situated on the top of a nearby hill, adjacent to Queen Ana’s and the Shimada Heirs’. Here he could watch his soldiers bustle around, preparing for the fight tomorrow. And ahead, just above the canopy of warm autumn leaves, Jack could see the faint outline of the snow-capped Hawth Mountains, as well as the Northern Watchtower.

Or rather, what was left of it.

It was a smoking ruin, on the brink of foundational collapse. Before they had even begun preparations to set up camp, Jack had sent out scouting parties to inspect the damage. Their only report was that there were no survivors, and no traces of the Omnics that had spearheaded the attack. Who knew how long those brave men and women held out for? Five days? Two?

It didn’t matter; the main forces had arrived too late. And now their deaths would be on Jack’s conscience for the remainder of his days.

Before Jack could fall into a second spiral of self-hatred, someone sat down next to him, grunting as they made contact on the ground. Jack’s first guess would have been Reinhardt or Gérard, perhaps even Ana. But with a turn of his head the Knight Captain could see that it was Jesse McCree. The ranger was out of armor and instead wore a long, patchy white tunic. Through the thinning material Jack could see the gauze bandages that covered the man’s shoulders, as well as the healing bruises that painted his neck. McCree nodded as a silent greeting before pulling out his pipe, lighting it up for a smoke.

“You should be resting.” Jack told the ranger in a gruff manner.

The man’s injuries were far from life threatening, but they hadn’t necessarily completely healed. Nevertheless if Jack had had his way, Jesse would have remained in Port City, sitting this battle out. Gabe’s resting spirit would never forgive him if he got Jesse killed.

But Jesse was just as stubborn as his old man, and in the end it had been Queen Ana who had the final say. Jack had just hoped his old friend would have been on his side. Turned out he had been wrong.

“I needed to stretch my legs… and to pay my respects.” McCree answered him, his voice still raw even after days of healing, or perhaps from lack of speaking. He puffed on his pipe for a few minutes, a glazed look over his eyes as he thought over something. Then McCree raised his pipe before somberly uttering, “to Commander Brooks.”

Jack raised his water skin, echoing Jesse. “To Brooks.”

“She was a damned good soldier, and she and her men deserved better than this fate.” McCree grunted, his voice beginning to close up from tears.

Jack placed a comforting hand on McCree’s back before standing up himself. He dusted off his pants before facing the ranger. He was suddenly brought back to all those years ago when Jesse was just a young kid, rebellious and difficult after spending too many years on the streets, before Gabe had found him.

Jack sighed. “I know how close you two were. We’ll make sure she and her men receive a proper burial.”

McCree nodded, his face hidden as he tipped his hat down. Still, Jack could see the shaking of McCree’s shoulders, and he knew the young man was trying his hardest not to show weakness with his tears. When he spoke, Jack could hear the sob that threatened to break through.

“… Thank you, Jack.”

Jack left the man to mourn in peace. He knew McCree needed his privacy when he lost someone close to him, and that time was the only cure for this sort of pain.

Jack headed down the hill and back to the main campsite. He tried not to disturb his men too much; they were far too busy finishing last minute preparations. Instead Jack opted to wander around and observe their progress, just to see if there was anything he could help with. Jack ended up wandering through almost the entirety of the camp, coming across the remaining members of the Royal Court.

Jack found Torbjörn, slaving away as he worked tirelessly to sharpen a few dulled blades. Torbjörn was muttering under his breath, but Jack could still hear what the man was saying. _“Lazy, careless bastards, the lot of them. Should have learned by now how to take care of their weapons”._ The blacksmith barely grunted in recognition as Jack passed by, too focused at the task at hand and cursing those who had given him the extra work.

Not much later Jack came across Gérard. The Commander of the Guard was speaking to his soldiers, all huddled around a dying campfire. The man was visibly stressed, and the recruits he had been training back in Port City looked even more so. Even the star cadet, Lena Oxton, seemed pale in complexion as the fear in her face was highlighted by the nearby fire.

Jack recalled the dates they all had been recruited, and then grimaced. This was their first battle, and most looked like they could have gone for another month of training before being thrown in the fray. Jack paused just long enough to say a quick prayer for them.

There was a very good chance that none of them would survive.

Further in the camp Jack found Reinhardt with Satya, for some odd reason unknown to the Knight Captain. The two were walking through camp as well, both holding two large containers full of… small coin pouches? Oh… they were handing them out to higher ranking soldiers. Jack realized it was the fruit of Satya’s research. She had finally decided on utilizing her so called _enchantments_. He still didn’t know how to feel about her work, but if it helped, then Jack would hold his tongue.

Jack caught a brief glimpse of Prince Hanzo as the young man exited the thicket from the surrounding forest. In hand was his bow, and on his back a quiver full of arrows. Ahead of him, just beyond the vegetation was a pair of veteran scouts, also returning. Earlier that day Hanzo had offered to join a scouting patrol through the thick woods surrounding Tivan, determined to do his part in this battle. Jack just hoped that the young prince would still be at his sharpest tomorrow, when they rode for battle.

And finally, Jack unintentionally stumbled upon the younger Shimada prince.

Honestly, Jack didn’t know what to think of the boy. And he was a boy, despite the age Sojiro had told him via the letters they sent one another. Despite first impressions, Jack recognized that Genji was reckless and immature. At least that was what Jack’s intuition told him, especially after the boy smuggled himself out of the Stone Palace at the worst possible time. It would take a lot for Jack to change his impression of the boy. If Genji did his part in the fight, it would be a good start.

Jack caught Prince Genji in the middle of what looked like practicing some swordsmanship, back behind the main bulk of camp. It was near the forest, cornered off and secluded. He chose this place well if he wished to not be disturbed. Jack did his best to remain hidden as he curiously watched the Hanamuran prince. He was unfamiliar with the forms themselves, but faintly recognized the pattern. Sojiro had once done the same back when he had visited Gibraltan in his younger years. In this one moment, Jack was struck by how similar the son was to his father.

Genji appeared to be deep in concentration. His eyes were closed, and he held the blade with the elegance of a master. Jack watched as Genji performed the forms again and again. And then, the boy suddenly stopped. He sheathed his sword before bowing slightly. This was then followed by the sound of applause, which only confused Jack further.

Genji suddenly flushed with what was most likely embarrassment as he bowed slightly again. Jack poked his head out from his hiding spot just enough to see a couple soldiers had been sitting on a fallen log; they had been watching what Jack realized was a performance, and not a practice session.

“Man, I never knew anyone could make a swordfight look like a dance.” One of the soldiers said. She sounded completely amazed by the performance. “Commander Lacroix says I’m pretty handy with a sword and shield, but I’ve never seen anyone wield a sword like that before.”

“Thank you, Maven. This technique is an ancient style originating from my home kingdom.” Genji admitted as he headed towards the two soldiers. He sat down beside them, on the stump of the log, his back turned towards Jack. “I am one of the few that has mastered the craft. My brother is another.”

“Wow… have you ever fought your brother?” The other soldier asked, curious.

The second soldier was quickly and harshly elbowed by the woman, Maven. “Hush, Orson. What kind of question is that?”

Orson elbowed right back. Jack quickly realized that these two must have been some of Gérard’s recruits and he inwardly groaned. Genji was already on his way of corrupting Gibraltan’s youth.

“Well, it’s _my_ question, dear sister. So, have you, Prince Genji?” Orson pressed.

“Ehh… no. At least not with actual swords.” Genji answered, sounding slightly hesitant to answer. “We practice with wooden shafts, lest we run into the risk of severely hurting one another.”

“Oh. So have you ever used that sword in battle before?” Orson asked, albeit sounding slightly deflated with the first answer he received. “Have you killed anything with it?”

Again, Genji seemed hesitant to answer. “Yes, but I must admit I don’t want to talk too much about it. It’s something very personal.”

At this point Jack realized he was technically spying on Prince Genji. But still, Jack had no intention of leaving just yet. Something kept him rooted in spot, unable to move on or to interrupt this private conversation.

Sensing a lull in the conversation, Maven tried to change the subject. She let out a small laugh before saying, “Orson used to kill frogs when we were younger. But our Ma made him stop after he kept putting them in my bed.”

“Yeah, but you were the one that started it! You always put snails in my food!” Orson nearly shouted at his sister defensively.

Genji’s only response was a short, “Gross.”

“It wasn’t _that_ gross.” Maven said with another small chuckle.

“Annnd… on that note, I will take my leave. Farewell, it was nice meeting you two, and I enjoyed your company.” Genji said with a polite smile.

The Prince stood up from his seat and bowed before the two young recruits out of polite respect one last time. Genji turned around, and fortunately for Jack he started walking toward the edge of the forest instead of towards the army’s camp. Why Genji was choosing to wander the forest, Jack didn’t know. Perhaps both Shimadas were better trackers than he expected.

However, all thoughts were brought to a standstill when one of the recruits let out a short, scared gasp.

“Wait, don’t go in the woods!” Maven cried out, jumping off of her seat to reach out to Genji. Genji caught her movement and froze just before the woman grasped his shoulder. He gave her a questioning look, to which she faltered before responding, “Haven’t you heard? It’s haunted.”

“Haunted?” Genji asked. Jack could tell by his tone of voice that the Hanamuran prince was unsure of whether to believe the young girl. “Haunted by what?”

Maven and Orson shared nervous looks. It was Orson who answered. “By what else? The Omnics’ monsters.”

“Yeah. By Griffons. And Minotaurs! And the ghosts of the dead.” Maven supplemented. “It’s not safe to go in the woods on the western and northern boarders alone. Unless you’re a ranger, that is.”

Jack’s heard of these rumors before. And most times they rang true. For centuries Humanity’s only been able to survive on the coasts of continents and islands. The further inland one would travel the more dangerous it would become, for Omnics and their magical beasts lurked there freely. But this was Tivan, and while it was one of the most northern villages in Gibraltan, it was still safe from the monsters these youngsters listed.

However the prince obviously didn’t know this. Their warnings apparently had intrigued Genji enough to sit back down on the stump. He set his pair of swords down beside the stump, long forgotten with his curiosity. The young prince rested his hands on his knees, leaning towards the two recruits.

“How do you know it’s haunted?” Genji asked, inviting the others to tell their story.

The two siblings shared a look with one another before they also sat back down. There was a small pause as the two silently decided who would be the one to tell the story. Finally, it seemed Orson decided to start, as he cleared his throat before leaning forward toward the Hanamuran Prince.

“There’s an old legend that gets told back home in the guard barracks. Sometimes the older soldiers like to spook us new recruits. Freak us out since we’re so young. But I can tell… I can tell that they’re not joking.” Orson said, his voice almost too low to make out. The boy looked almost hesitant to continue, but he did so after a nervous gulp. “Legend has it that there’s a Reaper in these woods. Come to feast on the souls of fallen soldiers after big, bloody battles.”

“A Grim Reaper? A bringer of death?” Genji said, mostly in shock by the implication. When the two siblings nodded their heads again, Genji visibly frowned. He paused for another moment as he thought this through. “Those are unkillable. Pure evil.”

“It’s drawn to the deaths that have happened here for the past century, Human and Omnic alike.” Orson added, almost hoping to convince Genji further. “It knows us humans are predictable, and it uses the War for its own needs.”

“Yeah, and legend has it that this Reaper takes the form of a large black owl. And it still haunts the evening hours, before it comes to kill you in your sleep.” Maven said, her voice also low and hard to make out. “During battles, it watches and waits in the woods, silently plotting to steal the souls of the unwary… if you happen to spot it, you’re a dead man walking.”

There was a pause as Genji processed what the recruits were saying.

“You can’t be serious.” Genji finally stated, sounding as skeptical as Jack felt.

“Yeah, we _are_. That’s how we lost the last Knight Captain, the one before Captain Morrison.” Orson said, almost off put by Prince Genji’s tone of voice. “The Reaper took him after a big bloody battle. And no one’s seen him since.”

“Really…?” Genji asked, sounding intrigued again.

“Really really.” Maven affirmed, nodding her head rigorously. “It’s a tough shame too, because both men were—”

Okay. _Okay_.

Jack had enough of this. His personal life didn’t need to be the subject of gossip among children.

Jack cleared out his throat loud enough to disturb the three younglings. They all jumped from their seat, startled from being caught slacking. Or perhaps this quick reaction and fear was from these childish ghost stories. Jack could care less which option it was. He walked towards them, back straight and a serious frown settling on his face. At least all three had the decency of looking ashamed. He just hoped he didn’t look as angry as he felt.

Almost immediately after, both recruits Maven and Orson stood to attention, bringing one fist over their heart. They had managed to steady their faces, but Jack could see the panic in their darting eyes. Good. At least now they knew they had crossed some boundaries.

“Soldiers. Care to explain?” Jack asked, his voice rough and full with irritation. He didn’t even bother telling them to stand at ease.

Both Maven and Orson shared a frightened, hesitated glance with one another before turning their gaze back to Jack. Orson had suddenly lost his voice, mouth moving but no sound escaping. After a few seconds Orson only succeeded with a small whimper. Maven stammered, her words running together from a panicked nervousness, completely incomprehensible. He could see the two quivering in their boots, and Jack had to truly ask himself, _by the Creator how old are these two? They’re children._

With a disappointed sigh, Jack averted his gaze and ordered, “Return to your duties before I decide to discipline the two of you with work under Lieutenant Lindholm.”

The slight mention of Torbjörn had done the trick, as it was widely known that the blacksmith overworked those under his command. Within a second both recruits recognized the dismissal and fled the scene, hopefully heading back to Commander Gérard. Jack watched them before letting out an irritated grunt, and then he turned towards Prince Genji.

Genji still wore a sheepish expression, turning away once he realized he had been caught in an unsavory situation. Genji let out a nervous laugh before picking up his swords and making his way towards Jack, still averting his own gaze.

 “Were they telling the truth, Knight Captain?” Genji asked, turning back away from the edge of the forest to face Jack.

Jack gritted his teeth, holding in the angry retort that he wanted to chew out. Genji had no right to ask him this. No right at all. He knew _nothing_. But Jack was able to restrain himself long enough to turn away from Prince Genji, averting eye contact. He did not want to betray his emotions a moment longer.

Instead, Jack looked up to the far horizon, to the smoking, faint ruins of the Northern Watchtower. If there truly was a Reaper in these woods, it showed them no mercy.

“Knight Captain Gabriel Reyes died an honorable death at the hands of the Omnics. There is no Reaper that haunts these woods.” Jack grunted out, his voice gruff. He knew he sounded angry, but at this point Jack couldn’t bring himself to care. “Now come, Prince Genji. We’ve got to meet with the War Council.”

* * *

 

Through the fabric of her tent, Ana could feel the fast approaching evening. The autumn air began to grow chilled with the absence of the sun's warmth, and she found she was already shrugging on her padded leather jacket. The leather was treated, sturdy, and wore Gibraltan's emblem proudly over her heart. It helped provide a little extra warmth, but not enough to scare the chill out of her old bones.

Reinhardt had returned from his previous duties. He was resting his legs, sitting in a small seat on the other side of Ana's private tent, near his own cot. His eyes were closed, and if Ana didn't know Reinhardt so well, she could have sworn that he was sleeping. From where Ana stood, she could see that the man was well and truly exhausted. Sometimes she forgot how old they were getting. War was a young man's game, and soon these old dogs wouldn't be able to keep up.

As if sensing her eyes on him, Reinhardt looked up, catching her steady gaze. He smiled kindly to her before rising from his seat, groaning in stiffness as he did so.

"My lady, what troubles you?" Reinhardt asked as he closed the distance between them.

"You should know the answer to that by now." Ana said, returning his smile with her own. She then frowned, shifting her eyes down to her feet. "I fear there won't be too much fight in me left. How many more battles do we have in us, Reinhardt?"

Reinhardt paused as he thought. "I will fight these damnable Omnics until my last dying breath. I will fight by your side, my lady, as I have sworn to do so since we were both young and foolish."

_By the Creator_ , Ana loved this man. But sometimes he was dense.

"I've come to the sudden realization that we're no good to our people dead. Honestly it should have taken me a lot sooner." Ana retorted as she returned her gaze to him. She reached out and grabbed his hands, and then brought them up until they were entwined with hers. Reinhardt looked surprised by this action, but didn't shrug off her subtle show of affection. "The Omnics cannot age, but we do. And we are, Reinhardt. I am old, with more grey hairs than brown at this point. And without Fareeha, I have no living heir. If I shall fall during battle--

"You will do no such thing." Reinhardt interjected, wearing a determined look upon his face. He was ever the Lord Protector.

"There's always a possibility, Reinhardt. And if I perish tomorrow, who will lead our people?" Ana pressed on, despite the pained look Reinhardt gave her. She then added, motioning her head closer for extra emphasis, "Jack? He is one of our dearest friends, but he's never been the same since Gabriel disappeared. And I fear what would happen if he loses us as well? His heart is not strong enough for all that grief."

Reinhardt let out a little hum as he seemed to agree with her. Very slowly Reinhardt freed his hands from hers. He walked towards the entrance to the tent, pulling back the fabric so he could look out towards the main camp. Even from here, and with the growing absence of light, Ana could see her soldiers, her people, preparing for yet another fight for their lives.

Through the crowd, the two could see Jack in his deep blue robes and shining silver armor slowly approaching, along with both of Sojiro's boys. One looked almost disheveled, the other exhausted. Ana could see the expression Jack wore, and it was one thin of patience.

Reinhardt closed the entrance and headed back further into the large tent. He stopped just before the large war table, and he placed his hands down on it.  A map of Gibraltan was laid down upon the table, the parchment tarnished yellow from age. Reinhardt spent a spare moment to study the map, tracing one finger from Port City and upwards to the northern border, and stopped just before the Northern Watchtower.

The Lord Protector heaved out a heavy sigh. He was reluctantly submitting to Ana's logic.

"I see your point, Ana. But what will you have of me?" Reinhardt asked, turning around to face her again. He almost looked angry if Ana didn't know him better. He was just frustrated. "Will you tear me off the battlefield? Ban me from fighting while I allow those younger than us to die in my stead. I cannot allow that."

"And I will never ask you of that. It is not in our nature."

"Then what do you want, Ana?"

"Just promise me something." Ana started. "Can you promise that you'll be more careful? Do not go charging into battle as if you are 20 years younger than you are. I need you by my side in the years to come."

They could now hear Jack’s footsteps as he approached, along with the two princes, their boots crunching against the dried dirt. Soon the War Council will meet, and their privacy would be breached. Reinhardt looked down at Ana, smiling slightly as he took her hand and kissed it with all the chivalry of a knight in shining armor. He then dropped her hand, taking a few steps back so he could salute to her.

"As you wish, my lady." Reinhardt said softly.

Ana smiled softly in relief, a large weight suddenly off her shoulders. "Thank you."

And with that, the moment had ended. Reinhardt returned to his seat while Ana remained near the war table. Jack, Hanzo, and Genji arrived moments later, all wearing their designated armor. Ana greeted the new arrivals with a silent nod, and then she moved over to allow Jack to join her.

"I've called for the others; they'll join us shortly." Jack informed her, speaking quietly.

“Good, because I want everything set in place before we turn in for the night. Battle plans for tomorrow, guard shifts for the night, the usual Jack. I don’t want the Omnics launching a surprise attack on us while we sleep.”

Jack nodded stiffly while he leaned over the map, his eyes tracing the same pattern of roads Reinhardt had studied earlier. “Understood. I’ve already spoke to Commander Nadia and Lieutenant Steffen. They’ll be overlooking the—”

This conversation was cut short as the entrance to Ana's tent was swung open abruptly. The occupants of the tent turned just in time to see Torbjörn enter with a few new raw burn marks covering his flesh arm. The poor man looked exhausted and more than slightly irritable from another day's hard work. He paused, holding the tent's flap open for Satya and McCree to follow him inside.

Ana took a final look at the horizon before the flap fell shut. The sun had just set, the colors of the sky bathed in dark purples and brilliant oranges. The light of the day was already escaping behind the dense forests; a darkness was encompassing the army's campsite. Ana spared a moment to watch as lanterns were lit among the camp, and she did the same as well, holding the small lantern in her hand.

It seemed Gérard would be late; the man ought to know better than to disappoint his queen, but Ana would quickly forgive him. Ana knew Gérard, and knew that he was still coddling over his latest recruits, spending some last few minutes with them before leaving them, for better or worse. It was an ill kept secret that the man was still haunted by the events from the last battle; the last batch of recruits had all perished, not quite prepared for the Omnics’ brutal assault. It had left Gérard devastated for weeks.

Ana just hoped Gérard had steadied himself for tomorrow.

Ana shook those thoughts away and turned back towards the table, only to see that everyone had taken positions around it as well. The War Council was now in session. The Royal Court turned to her, waiting to hear her start, as was customary. Ana sighed before joining them, placing the lit lantern onto one corner of the table. She cracked her knuckles, an anxious habit she had kept since her younger years.

"Despite the new faces that have joined our numbers," here, Ana turned to wave a small hand towards Hanzo and Genji, "we all know what's at stake here for these next few days. I won’t lie to any of you, but Jesse's preliminary reports state a large number of Omnic forces will be waiting for us, possibly larger than anything we’ve seen before. And the destruction of the Northern Watchtower confirms those numbers. Jesse?"

Jesse stood up straighter and tipped his hat towards Ana. He took another step towards the table and placed his palms down on it, leaning over it. He cleared his throat before speaking.

"Earlier today we sent out two scouting parties. One led by me, the other by Prince Hanzo.” Jesse started, his words almost breathless at first, but rising with volume the further he continued. “While Prince Hanzo's party searched for any straggling survivors, mine went deep into enemy territory, and we were able to get a few numbers jotted down without being spotted.

"The Omnics have a large number of Pawns, which isn't too surprising. They're the cannon fodder for the rest of their forces. There's a good amount of Fiends as well, so I would suggest a strong force of ranged support on the eastern and western fronts." Jesse said. He placed a finger down on the map, just east of Tivan. He rested a fingertip towards a symbol meant for rolling hills. "There's good cover here, and there's also the encompassing forest to the west as well."

Jack shuffled his feet, shifting the attention away from Jesse and onto himself. He cleared his throat before commandeering the spotlight. In this moment, he was Knight Captain of Gibraltan's armed forces, the man who only answers to the Queen.

"I suggest two flanking squadrons of scouts and rangers. One will be stationed to the east, consisting of archers, codenamed Arrow." Jack stated.

"I agree." Ana added, nodding her head stiffly.

"Arrow will provide covering fire for the forces on the main battlefield. The other squad will be Spear, stationed in the forest." Jack continued. "Spear will focus on distracting and disarming the Omnic's forces wherever and however they can. I believe our rangers are capable of performing guerrilla warfare, let's use them to our full potential. Jesse, you'll lead Spear; Prince Hanzo, you’ll be working under him."

"I'll do my best Captain, but what has me concerned is the numbers of Bastions, Dominators, and Eradicators.” Jesse stated, pausing only to look in the eyes of the Royal Court. “They all make up the bulk of the Omnic's forces. I wouldn't be surprised if there are a few Stalkers lurking around as well. So be careful not to wander off alone; From now on I'd strongly suggest our soldiers pair up with someone at all times."

And here, Jesse paused. Ana recognized that look, and her stomach plummeted. He was about to tell them some of the worst news they could receive right now. With a quick glance at Jack and Reinhardt, Ana could tell that the two men knew as well.

Jesse let out a small, defeated sigh. "And of course, we have reason believe there's a God Program here as well."

"How can you tell?" Genji asked, leaning over the table, giving Jesse a skeptical look. "Did you see one?"

"By the Creator, no!" Jesse exclaimed, taken back by this question. "If I did, I probably wouldn't have lived to tell the tale."

"Then what makes you so sure?" Hanzo spoke before his brother could, turning to look Jesse in the eye.

"It’s hardly a trying riddle, yer Highness. It's all about how they act. What the Omnics look like." It was Torbjörn who answered. The blacksmith carelessly smacked the table with his hand down on the table, startling the younger prince slightly. "With a God Grogram, those devils are chaotic little buggers, completely mindless creatures under the thrall of the bigger bastards. It's like a hive mind. But when they're on their own...

"The individual Omnics act with more autonomy, as if they were sentient beings." Satya finished the man's trailed off sentence. The Grand Enchanter then gave the two brothers a quick look before speaking again. "Less of a cohesive group, yet still they pose as a difficult adversary if not taken seriously. The forces we will face tomorrow will fight more violently, but also more predictably."

"Which brings me to the second part of my plan." Jack interjected. "The main forces will be split up into two halves, both of which will take a fully offensive stance against the Omnics. Hammer and Anvil. Reinhardt, you will lead Hammer."

At this, Reinhardt chuckled at Jack, despite the severity of the situation. Ana knew why he was laughing, of course. Perhaps his team was aptly named for the Lord Protector's weapon of choice.

"Working with you will be Commander Nadia, and Prince Genji." Here, Jack turned to face the younger Shimada. Genji almost seemed to hunch over at Jack’s words, but Ana just dismissed it for anxiety. "If you are as well skilled as your father, then we're going to need you on the front lines."

Genji visibly gulped before steadying himself and bowing. "My sword is yours."

Jack nodded in appreciation. "Hammer, your only job is to hit the Omnics hard. With a swift and brutal initial attack, we may be able to diffuse the main horde into smaller, more panicked groupings. Anvil will be lead by myself, Torbjörn, and Gérard. As soon as Commander Lacroix arrives, we can go into further details."

"Then you shall wait no more, my friend."

Heads turned as the entrance to the Royal tent was opened, revealing that Gérard had finally arrived. He bowed before everyone before walking towards his place by Jack's side. He looked slightly guilty for missing the first half of the meeting, but not enough to voice an apology. He shared a quick word with Jack, too low for Ana to make out, and then he smiled before everyone.

“You’re late, Gérard.” Ana stated, but there was no bark to her words. She was teasing him more than anything.

Gérard smirked and let out a soft but genuine laugh. He made his way towards Jack’s other side and clapped the man’s shoulders. “Fashionably late, my Queen. And do not worry about catching me up; I heard enough of Jack’s plan through the tent’s fabric on my way in.”

“If that’s truly the case, then continue Jack.” Ana said, turning back towards the war table.

“Very well.” Jack said with an unconvinced sigh, his gaze lingering on Gérard for a moment longer. “Anvil will be the second wave of attack, bolstering Hammer’s initial assault. Soldiers under Anvil will focus on those that manage to survive the brunt of Hammer as well as providing any support Hammer requires. Hopefully with both Hammer and Anvil, our numbers will overwhelm the Omnic forces.”

“And what of the God Program?” Hanzo asked aloud, bringing attention to him. “That should be our main priority.”

Prince Hanzo’s question was met with a brief but tense silence. Ana shared a quick glance with Jack, and then the man nodded subtly. Ana took a deep breath before turning towards Hanzo.

“Leave that to one of us, Prince Hanzo. As much as I’m sure you and your brother are both very capable warriors, I doubt you have fought a God Program before.” Ana said. She paused, taking in his expression. Judging by Hanzo’s frown, what she had assumed was true. Ana nodded at this before continuing. “Myself, Jack, Reinhardt, and Gerard. We’ve all fought one, and it requires all of us together to bring it down and kill it.”

“If you are asking me to sit back and allow you to—

“That _is_ what I’m asking. And you will listen to me.” Ana cut him off, decidedly ignoring Hanzo’s pouting face. “Stay away from the God Program, at all costs. That goes for you as well, Prince Genji. Understood?”

Judging by the glare that Hanzo was giving her, he did not. Hanzo turned the glare on to his brother, who mouthed something Ana couldn’t make out. And then surprisingly, Hanzo steadied himself and took a half step back, calming himself. He nodded his head stiffly before grunting a small, “understood.”

For some reason Ana did not quite believe him, but she ultimately decided to let it be. “So be it. The meeting is adjourned.”

The War Council came to an end. And slowly but surely the entirety of the Royal Court, save for Reinhardt and Jack, exited from the Queen’s private tent. Together the three friends stood around the table, almost unable to move from their spots. They all shared solemn, worried looks with one another.

“We’re going to lose people.” Ana stated, her voice haunted by that simple truth. “And Creator… a God Program…”

Ana felt a hand on her shoulder, felt it squeeze the leather armor affectionately. Ana looked up to see that the hand belonged to Reinhardt.

“We’ve killed one before, and we can do it again.” Reinhardt muttered.

Ana thought back to earlier, when the thought of her own mortality haunted her. She paused, frowning when the words came to her. “Yes but for how much longer?”

It was Jack who answered her. “Until someone else proves capable of doing so. But until then, it’s our job.”

There was so much more Ana wanted to say, to retort and point out the flaws of their logic. But that was for another time, for her soldiers needed her levelheaded until the battle was over. Ana only sighed as she moved from her spot and grabbed the lit lantern. She crossed towards the tent’s entrance, bracing herself with a small, silent prayer.

It was time to address the people.

Ana exited the tent; following closely behind were Jack and Reinhardt. She made her way down towards the main encampment, holding the lantern in her hand. The few soldiers that were bustling around the perimeter recognized their Queen and bowed before her as she passed them. Their whispers travelled over the campsite like a deft wind. Soon, everyone had turned towards her, silent and on bended knee.

Ana paused as she looked to her sides. There, standing proudly next to her was the Royal Court, all looking towards her. She nodded to them, and they bowed as well, lowering their heads in respect.

Ana pursed her lips before starting. “Let us start with a prayer.”

“Oh Creator, watch over us in our struggles. Guide us when we have lost our way. Cherish us like the children we are. Today, we look to You for guidance.

“We accept that we are blind in our struggles, but You will lead us to the light of another day. Shine on us with Your glory, for it is almighty and beautiful. Grant us the strength that we will require in the upcoming battle. With Your ever watchful gaze, provide us with the hope, patience, and determination that we will call upon even in the darkest of times.

“Our way is long, and the path ahead is perilous. But we know with Your care, those who are faithful will remain victorious, for our sword is Your sword. And our shield is Your shield.

“Our breath, is Your breath.”

With a steady, determined breath, Ana finished the prayer. “By the Creator, we remain strong.”

Among the crowd, there was a dissonant chorus of, “By the Creator, we remain strong.”

There was a pause as Ana allowed for her soldiers to steady themselves. Beside her, she could see Reinhardt straighten himself, standing up even taller than before. Ana raised her head and frowned slightly, her expression completely serious as she raised her voice again.

“Tomorrow we head to battle. Our fates are unknown, beyond the realm of our knowledge. But I _know_ that the Creator is smiling down upon us this day, and He will shield us as we do our part in this Holy fight. We will fight for our Creator, our protector. And we _will_ defeat these vile machines created by the Betrayers, the vile and wicked Forgotten Ones. Their tyranny must be stopped _here_ today, or those we love and left behind back home will ultimately pay the price of our failures.

“I know no greater people to risk my life with. None of us are strangers to loss; the Omnics have shown humanity no mercy since the day they reared their ugly heads on this world. But our pain has made us stronger, _better_. You are my People, and I am yours. Asking you to fight for me is never easy, but it must be done. Today, I fight by your side, not as Queen, but as countryman. I am your bow, and I will watch over you all… if you will have me.

“Now, will you have me?”

The world shuddered around Ana as men and women shouted in response to their Queen. The response from the soldiers was almost deafening. Fists were raised to the air with great vigor, and war cries echoed through the valley. Queen Ana stood there, amazed by their response before she also joined in the war cry, a burst of war determined excitement rushing through her. She raised her own fist before bringing it back down onto her chest, thumping her heart once. The action was repeated by the solders, _her_ soldiers, in a wave of _thumps_ as they quieted, waiting to hear her response.

Internally, Ana said to herself: _For Fareeha_.

And then Ana was smiling, determined. “I knew I could count on you. Never let it be forgotten that I love my country, and I love my people.”

Here Jack stepped forth, placing a reassuring hand on Ana’s shoulder. He was frowning in a serious determination, but Ana could see the spark of hope in his eyes. The two shared a knowing look before Ana stiffly nodded her head.

“Knight Captain will relay your orders, and I expect you all to be at your posts by sunrise.” Ana finished, returning her gaze out towards the masses of soldiers. “Creator be with you.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the battle chapter, so I just want to warn people of slight mentions of gore and death. If anyone has any problems with that, write a comment and I'll do a small plot synopsis in the next chapter.
> 
> Also there's a lot of POV switches in this chapter, due to the amount of characters and where they are in the story.

The hours before battle had been eerily quiet and completely still. As the early sunrays of dawn broke over the eastern horizon, the night’s chill had remained, hanging low within the valley. With the call of a lone and somewhat somber horn, soldiers steadily arose from their tents, a haunting silence clinging to them like the morning’s frozen shadows.

Genji, ever the light sleeper, awoke with a nauseating shiver, and was surprised to find that Hanzo had not yet risen. There was a nervous ache in Genji’s bowels, but despite that he forced himself out of the makeshift cot. As he silently dressed himself in his set of traditional Hanamuran armor (it had been his father’s before him, and Genji paused when he noticed it still smelt of him), his arms shook from fear and his fingers refused to cooperate with the delicate clasps. Even Genji’s breath seemed to escape him.

Nightmares had haunted his dreams all throughout the night.

They had been vicious images of himself being impaled, left on the battlefield to succumb from the wound. And of Hanzo, drowning on his own blood from a mortal injury no one had noticed until it was far too late. Or of his Dragon, which had abandoned him during the hour when he desperately needed it. These were thoughts Genji had been suppressing all throughout the four day march from Port City. But now, on the morning of the battle, there was no escape from them.

He suddenly found himself bent over, grasping his bent knees with his stomach threatening to dry heave over his boots.

Genji was not ready.

Genji could not fight this fight, yet it was expected of him. He could tell no one of these fears; he knew it would be even more cowardly to divulge these feelings with his brother. So Genji found himself at an impasse with an outcome he was not mentally prepared for. He was suffering because of it.

There was the sound of Hanzo finally waking, and quickly Genji collected himself. He couldn’t show any sign of weakness in front of his brother. The mask fell back over his face, and then Genji turned his back towards Hanzo as a precaution.

“Slept well, brother?” Genji asked, testing his voice hesitantly.

There was a small groan, and then the sound of thick woolen sheets being pushed aside. Out of the corner of his eyes Genji could see Hanzo trudge towards their water basin and splash his face, and then he shuddered from the cold water. There was another groan as Hanzo made his way towards his own set of armor.

“I am awake and alert, if that is what you are asking.” Hanzo answered gruffly. There was a paused, and then Genji turned around to see that Hanzo was staring at him. “I see you are already prepared, even before myself. Most unusual.”

“I had trouble sleeping.” Genji said with a shrug; he thought it harmless to give Hanzo that small of a detail. Genji then gave his brother a fake smile, grinning with his teeth as he placed a reassuring hand on the other’s shoulder. “First time I’ve ever beaten you to something, eh?”

Surprisingly, Hanzo smiled as well. “Perhaps, dear brother. Perhaps. Now let’s not dwell for too long; I’m sure Queen Ana and her Court is expecting us shortly.”

Genji nodded, seemingly agreeing with Hanzo’s conclusion. He turned away and finished collecting his belongings, placing his swords appropriately on his back. Still, Genji was hyperaware of Hanzo in the room as he prepared himself, and he prayed to the Creator that his brother could not sense his unease.

That would be the last time the two would talk before the battle begun.

* * *

 

The Queen’s Army marched northward for almost an hour before reaching the chosen point for splitting the war parties. Few spoke during the exchange; they were so close to the country’s border that most felt too afraid to chance it. No one wanted spook the Omnics that lurked far behind the untamed wilderness.

Just before Genji departed from his side, Hanzo reached out and grasped his wrist. He squeezed it twice. Genji, surprised by this show of affection, only gave him a questioning glace.

Hanzo’s only response was a shared small look with his brother, hoping that his eyes could convey what he thought. _Please brother, survive._ Hanzo placed his other hand onto Genji’s shoulder and squeezed that as well, despite knowing that Genji would not feel the pressure underneath the armor. Genji seemed too nervous to return the gesture, but nodded nonetheless.

And then Hanzo watched as Genji turned to join Reinhardt and a woman who Hanzo assumed was Commander Nadia. Hanzo stood there, still as a statue, as he watched Hammer take point, soon followed by Anvil. With only Spear and Arrow remaining on the dirt trodden path, Hanzo spared a small moment to watch Genji’s disappearing form.

Hanzo didn’t quite notice that someone had joined him in watching half of the army split off until he smelt tobacco smoke. Beside him stood the Ranger McCree. The man held a pipe in his gloved hand, and he blew the smoke through his nose. McCree’s eyes strained as he watched the groups disappear into the thick woods.

“Creator please hear my prayers, and walk with them.” McCree finally spoke up with a sigh. He finished what little left he had in his pipe before he emptied it and put it back in a concealed pocket. Still, McCree didn’t look down towards Hanzo, which the other man appreciated. “Want some advice Prince Hanzo? Don’t worry about them. Worry about ourselves; we’re going to need all the concentration we can muster.”

Hanzo didn’t quite know if he liked the given sentiment, but he nodded nonetheless. He knew Genji was trained enough to survive the fight. But Genji was not levelheaded like himself. And that was what made Hanzo nervous.

Hanzo spoke up, his words just barely above a whisper. “Tell me, Ranger, how many battles have you fought in?”

“Can’t count them. Too many if you ask me.” McCree answered with a grumble. Finally, the Ranger turned to face Hanzo, and he stuck out a hand. “I’ve been fighting for over a decade by now. And each battle is as bloody as the last.”

Hanzo eyed the hand before taking it, and McCree shook it with a tough tug. If what McCree said was true, then he deserved his respect.

“I will have your back, McCree.”

“And I yours, your Highness.”

McCree paused as he took a quick, sweeping look around the surroundings. Queen Ana was already leading her squad of archers off to the east. She shared a look at McCree, and Hanzo could briefly see the smallest trace of fear in her eyes that had slipped between her confident mask. Hanzo quickly realized that McCree must have meant more to the Queen than what he originally thought.

Hanzo’s thoughts came to a halt when McCree grunted. He prepared his crossbow and then grimaced as he turned to face Hanzo. “We need to move. The Omnics have just as good an opportunity of jumping us than we do of them.”

Understanding the severity of the situation, Hanzo drew his bow and held an arrow between his finger tips. He stared down at the arrowhead before knocking it with one graceful, fluid movement. And without further warning, McCree turned away and held up a fist, and then motioned to the rest of Spear that it was time to do their part. McCree led the forces further into the woods with Hanzo by his side.

* * *

 

Queen Ana led her group without as much as a whisper. The scouts in her party were all veterans, some having served their nation for the better part of a decade, and others for long as the Queen herself. They had all grown accustomed to serve under Ana’s leadership. And this time together only served to strengthen their bond. Now, Queen Ana only had to hold up a few fingers and her soldiers knew what she wanted from them.

They travelled in the dark underbrush of the forest, using the shadows to their advantage. From here on out, this was enemy territory, even if it was still Gibraltan lands. The Omnics have never spotted their forces until it was too late, and Ana preferred to keep it that way.

Ana knew of the hilly location Jack had mentioned last night, and she knew of the perfect cover it would provide. And when they arrived to said location, Ana seemed content to find that her predictions were correct.

Just outside of the clearing stood the rocky foothills of the Hawth Mountains. For the most part, it sat there untouched, for the land ahead, or rather above, was craggy and almost devoid of life. Above there would be little outcroppings, enough to provide cover, and yet also a large viewing of the area that surrounded the border. It was also perfect for climbing, if you asked Ana.

With only a few swift hand motions to command the others, Ana started to expertly climb the rocky cliff side. Well, almost expertly. Her old bones weren’t what they used to be years ago, and she grunted with the effort she put into climbing. If her scouts noticed her slight struggles, they said nothing.

Minutes later, and Ana was positioned far up in the outcroppings of the hills. She kept her body low to the rocky ground, and her eyes on the horizon. Ana’s eyesight was practically flawless, much better than most at her age, and she could easily spot the gleaning of metal armor through the openings between autumn colored leaves. Hammer and Anvil were making good time. But where were the Omnics…

Ana pulled out a spyglass from her bag and held it to her eye. A few of her veteran scouts followed the action as others prepared their longbows. Ana frowned as she surveyed the horizon with the help of the instrument, searching for any sign of her enemies.

After a few soul-aching minutes, Ana found them. She let out a small bird chirp as she pulled the spyglass away. The scouts around her stilled at the call. One cupped their mouth with their hands and answered her call with one similar. A few moments passed, and then off in the distance, there was a fainter cry in response to their own.

Ana let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Good, Jesse had heard their warning. Spear would be ready if the Omnic’s attempted an ambush.

Ana prepared her bow and then stood completely still. Others followed her lead, and to the untrained eye, the squad completely blended in to the craggy surface of the hills. Their time would come, and she was determined to make it count when that moment arrived.

* * *

 

The fighting begun even before Genji could comprehend where the serrated arrow came from.

He stood there in shock for one moment, his eyes not leaving the fallen body of a soldier only a few feet to his right. The man had let out a guttural scream as the arrow grazed his neck. He had grasped at it, but the damage had been done. The man pleaded for help even as he coughed red, blood soaking through his fingers.

Everyone paused in their march to share that small second to stare at the first of their fallen kin. And then Reinhardt gripped his hammer tighter; Genji could hear the giant of a man grunt with a seething rage. Genji watched as Reinhardt suddenly burst into action without further warning, roaring with unequaled and passionate fury. And then the world around Genji exploded.

Hammer rushed forward, sweeping Genji along with it. Reinhardt raised his giant hammer into the air, shouting profanities in a language Genji could not comprehend. Ahead, just out of the clearing, stood the first of what must have been many squadrons of the Omnic army.

The enemy forces were almost overwhelming in size, and all were moving erratically, as if possessed by something. They could not keep their composure. They had their weapons raised, some charging dark magical energy in their sharp, long metallic fingers. Genji could see the dark purple magic that they shaped even from here, and he could feel his tattoo prickle in response to it.

And ahead of the Omnic foot soldiers stood one much larger than the rest of them. Genji almost confused it for a metallic horse the Omnics had constructed, as it stood on four legs. But then he noticed the large, intimidating arms that were attached to the monster’s torso area, as well as the large battleaxe it held above its horned head. It screamed something in the Omnic’s foul language, but all Genji could hear was metal grating angrily against metal.

Genji did not know the name of the Omnic, but Commander Nadia seemed to know.

“Look ahead! Centaur!” Nadia shouted as she raised her sword and shield. “Focus your strength on the demon!”

As if hearing her shout, the Omnics started to chant in their strange, ear splitting language. And then they lunged forward. It looked almost like a flood of water breaking from a dam, and Genji’s heart seized in his throat once he realized the full extent of danger he was in. And yet he still rushed forward, leading Hammer in a charge along with Reinhardt and Nadia.

It felt too soon when the two armies clashed together. Genji found himself fighting back against the Omnics, his katana holding back the brunt of one Pawn’s attacks in particular. It was in a craze, its eyes a haunting red as its mouth sparked with fire. It screamed as it raised a spiked club. Genji fought on instinct, too panicked to make smart and conscious decisions. In one fell swoop Genji chopped off its head, and the Omnic fell lifeless before him. Another replaced it within the next passing second.

The Centaur was still alive, its shrill voice reminding Genji how close it was to him. It seemed to be battling Reinhardt, the two battering against each other, their strength’s matched in equal measure. Commander Nadia was too busy fighting against a Fiend to help, the ground beneath her burnt from the magical fireballs she had dodged. The Gibraltan foot soldiers around them were just fighting to stay alive.

“I need backup!” Reinhardt called out once the man realized the Centaur had the upper hand.

Even in Genji’s shell shocked state, he realized what he must do. Genji pushed forward, battering against the Omnic forces that stood in his way. There was a small pain on his left arm, and Genji realized something must have cut through his armor. Genji paused just long enough to find the offender, and he bashed it in the head with the end of his sword before kicking it back.

Commander Nadia noticed Genji’s advancement and tried her best to join him. But the Fiend demanded her full attention as it managed to finally clip her armor with a blazing fireball, knocking the woman on her knees. Her surprised cry was lost over the sound of clashing metal, and then Commander Nadia was out of Genji’s sight.

Genji almost froze in place, his instinct to find and help the woman. But if he did so then he would surely meet his end. The words of the Elders’ teachings echoed through Genji’s mind, jarring him slightly. _No. Don’t stop. Pausing in battle is a weakness your enemy will happily use to their advantage. You are a Shimada, a Dragon._

Reinhardt’s grunts brought Genji back out of his shell shocked state. Commander Nadia was out of his thoughts; she either had survived or perished, it was out of his hands now. Genji pushed his fears aside and surged forward towards the man’s giant form. Genji gripped his katana tightly in both hands before letting out a short battle cry and stabbing the Centaur through the joint in its torso.

_As a Dragon, you will thrive in battle._

The Centaur cried out in surprise, giving Reinhardt enough of an opportunity to swing his hammer towards the Omnic without leaving an opening for attack. Just as Reinhardt brought the hammer down onto the Centaur’s head, the Omnic retaliated and swatted Genji away with enough force to send his small form flying.

_Or you will die._

* * *

 

As Jesse moved forward through the forest’s undergrowth, he could not ignore the sounds of metal clashing against metal. The sounds of his countrymen dying. He clenched his teeth tighter and gripped at the crossbow in his hands. They had to get to the ambush site. Every minute Spear spent tip toeing around in the forest was a minute other soldiers were dying.

The Hanamuran prince was ever so quiet, but Jesse could see the cold concentration on his face. The worry that permeated from being separated from his younger brother. He just hoped that Prince Hanzo could hold it together long enough so that they both survived through this day.

They made perhaps another good 10 minutes time before Jesse’s gut told him to stop. Jesse froze in place, raising a clench fist at head level. Spear stopped in their tracks as Jesse listened to the woods surrounding them. Ana’s people had called to them, warning of the Omnic’s own ambush. But this was too off course, and not close enough to get behind enemy lines.

Prince Hanzo was also alert to their surroundings, an arrow already knocked in his bow. The two searched through the underbrush, anxious to see what had been watching them.

There was the sound of wings ruffling, and Jesse was able to catch a glimpse of a large black bird taking off of a nearby branch. It let out this horrible squawk as it flew away, and towards where Spear had been making its way to. As the bird finally disappeared through the autumn colored canopy, Jesse spotted the tiniest sheen of rusted metal.

Jesse took it as a warning from the Creator. Without further adieu, Jesse fired a cross bolt.

It was like a black powder explosion. Omnics pushed through the foliage in a wave. Spear had just enough time to prepare themselves for the onslaught. Jesse grabbed for the short sword by his side and launched into a Pawn. It went down fast enough, but was soon replaced by another. Jesse tried his hardest to focus on the opponent in front of him, but something was off.

These were all Pawns. Tough bastards in their own right, but nothing without the orders of a much stronger monster. Where was the Omnic’s commanding officer? There must be a Fiend, or Creator save them a _Stalker_ , hiding somewhere far enough to save itself from the fight. The coward.

An unforeseen Pawn lunged out towards Jesse, tackling him to the ground. The sudden contact with the hard dirt ground sent Jesse’s vision reeling. Before Jesse was able to shake the Omnic off, it had been given a swift kick by the Hanamuran prince. Prince Hanzo swung his bow at the Omnic while it remained prone, driving it into its neck cavity.

“Get up, ranger!” Prince Hanzo grunted as he pulled Jesse up.

McCree only nodded in response as he steadied himself and prepared another crossbow bolt. As another Pawn grew too close, Jesse fired at its head, sending a bolt through an eye. The two men stood back to back, somehow succeeding at holding their ground. Around them, the other rangers managed to keep the forces at bay. But still it wasn’t enough; they were still losing members the longer this went on.

Suddenly, Prince Hanzo quietly stated. “There is magic nearby.” He fired another arrow and then knocked another.

However Prince Hanzo knew that, McCree knew now was not the time to ask how. “I’m guessing either a Fiend or a Stalker. Keep your eyes open for any ripples in your vision. Stalker’s can cloak themselves.”

Prince Hanzo nodded.

After what felt like minutes, Spear managed to take out most of the Omnic’s failed ambush attempt. The crazed Omnics couldn’t realize that they were quickly being outnumbered and launched for one more final, feral attack. Jesse surged forward of Spear, taking his short sword and planting it into the chest of a raging Pawn that had its sights on him. As he held it at away at arm’s length, keeping it at bay, Jesse glimpsed to Hanzo. As the two made quick eye contact, Hanzo sent an arrow flying at the struggling Pawn. The arrow hit its mark, and the life drained from its metal body.

As that happened, Jesse saw the faint outline of a shadowed shape behind the prince. He gasped as he saw a Stalker materialized out of thin air behind Hanzo.

The bastard was just as tall as a Friend, and just as atrociously elongated. This Omnic bore no serrated horns, but rather a tail that had enough force to easily impale through leather armor. It had been standing on all fours like a wildcat, but now stood up to its full height.

The Stalker growled as its glowing red eyes pierced Jesse’s soul. Its serrated tail twitched erratically, and Jesse prayed to the Creator that it would not drive that thing through Hanzo’s chest. Instead it gripped the prince’s shoulders, its thin metal fingers tearing underneath the shoulder pads. Jesse’s eyes widened with fear as the Stalker heaved Hanzo up as if the man weighed like tissue paper and tossed him aside far into the forest, where his form struck the trunk of a tree.

Hanzo’s form disappeared into the thick foliage. Jesse couldn’t quite make out where Hanzo had gone, for the Stalker had let out an ear splitting cry before it launched itself at Jesse on all fours like a feral cat. Dark purple magic travelled down its exposed metal spine and Jesse could see that its claws had been super heated. The metal was a bright yellow orange as it steamed in the cold autumn air.

Jesse dove to the side, and just in time too. The Stalker screamed in anger as it landed against a tree. Jesse managed to shoot a crossbow bolt at it, but he only managed to hit it in the side. This only seemed to accomplish it pissing it off even more. _Come on, aim better Jesse. Stalkers are frail sons of bitches._

A fellow ranger launched themselves at the Stalker, sword ready to dismantle it, giving Jesse enough time to pick himself up. Jesse loaded another bolt, trying his best to ignore the screams of the surprised ranger as the Stalker sunk its sharp teeth into his arm, ripping it off. Oh Creator, there was so much _blood_.

Jesse fired another bolt, this time managing to hit one of its leg joints. The Stalker fell to its knee, and then proceeded to glare at Jesse. It started to prepare a magical attack—

— and then an arrow whizzed by. It struck the Stalker right through the forehead. The mechanical beast fell dead without much more thought, the magic dying in its still molten red claws.

Out from the undergrowth stood Prince Hanzo, his nose running red with blood and a few raw scratches on his face. But otherwise the Hanamuran Prince was without injury. He held his bow still before bringing it down as he inspected the layout. He then met Jesse’s gaze.

“Are you injured?” Hanzo asked, his voice soft and even genuine.

“I’m fine.” Jesse said, nodding. “You?”

“Alive.” Hanzo said with a nod as well. He rubbed the back of his hand against his bloody nose, grimacing when he saw the blood staining his glove. “We must hurry. I suspect the Omnic forces weren’t expecting us to live through this ambush.”

“Good point.” If they wanted to keep their advantage, the surviving members of Spear had to push through. They had to give Hammer and Anvil all the support they could give. Jesse turned to the other rangers, eyes pausing only for a brief moment to mourn for the fallen. “We push forward, and the next time this happens, it’ll be us surprising the Omnics.”

* * *

 

Genji blacked out for only a second, but it was a second too long. There was a sharp pain in his shoulder, and Genji looked up to see a large, brutish Omnic standing over him, a sharp foot digging in between the thick leather of his armor. Genji’s eyes widened in fear as he saw the Eradicator swing the large axe it was holding down to him.

Instincts told Genji to move, and he pushed his feet into the Eradicator’s form. As it struggled to regain its balance, Genji rolled away just in time for the rugged axe to bury itself into the cold ground where Genji had just laid. Genji struggled onto his feet as the Omnic moved forward again, struggling to unbury the axe. Genji couldn’t breathe, but he lunged forward anyways, finding his short sword and plunging it into the side of the Eradicator’s head. The two collapsed onto one another.

By the Creator, he was taking too many injuries. Genji couldn’t help but realize that there was a great chance he wouldn’t survive to the end of this fight.

Suddenly, there was a friendly voice. “Come on! Get up! Anvil is almost here!”

It was Maven. Genji saw Maven’s form reach down toward him, picking him up. She looked disheveled and frightened beyond measure. Her helmet was gone, missing somewhere during the ensuing fight. She was bleeding somewhere under her thick head of hair, the blood dripping down the side of her temple. The shield in her hand was cracked, and her sword covered in oil, the tip of it broken off.

Seeing Maven in this state grounded Genji. Genji grabbed for his katana that had been knocked off of him. He looked around and saw the destruction of the battlefield. The ground was covered with the bodies of the fallen, both human and Omnic alike. There was no sight of Reinhardt or Commander Nadia.

“Where’s Orson?!” Genji shouted over the wails of the fighting.

From her pained expression, and how he had just noticed her still wet cheeks. Genji knew what had happened. Genji himself felt deep at loss, shaken to his core. Another casualty of the war.

After that Maven and Genji stood close to one another, fending for each other. Even as Genji fought he could see that they were slowly being outnumbered. The Omnics were just too brutal in their attacks, and they were losing numbers far too fast. Over the crest of the plain’s hill, Genji could still the mass of Omnic numbers that had not joined the fray yet.

Where was Anvil?

Genji’s question was answered with the shout of hundreds of voices. From behind rushed Anvil, with Knight Captain Morrison leading on an armored horse. Genji could not spare any attention to watch Anvil’s arrival, but he could see as the soldiers surrounding them had their spirits rejuvenated. They fought with much needed vigor, and Genji was surprised to see that he was as well.

Morrison slashed his way through the Omnics, the horse carrying him galloping and jumping over the dead. Morrison spotted Genji and maneuvered the horse towards him. As Morrison quickly approached him, he held out a hand, leaning over to the right side. Genji understood, and reached out to grab the outstretched arm.

And then Genji was on the horse, riding far away from Maven as Morrison led them further into the battle. Genji could not ignore the helpless and desperate look Maven gave to him before she disappeared among the masses.

“Where’s Reinhardt and Nadia?!” Morrison shouted as he swung his sword.

“I don’t know!” Genji answered, bringing the hilt of his katana down on a Pawn they had passed.

“Damn it. Stay by my side, no matter what happens!” Morrison ordered.

Soon they found Reinhardt; he was going against far too many Omnics. It was another Centaur and a few Eradicators, and they were surrounding him. But the giant of a man was now laughing even when outnumbered. Genji could hear him shouting against the Omnics. Magic bounced off his shining armor, but the ground below was charred.

The horse below them fell to a sudden halt, and then Morrison jumped off of it. The Knight Captain was angrily shouting as he forced his way towards his friend, bashing away any Omnics that dared try to stop him. Genji could only follow behind, trying to keep the Omnics from getting back up.

Reinhardt was showing signs of damage, but he showed little of slowing down. He looked relieved when he saw Morrison and Genji approach; he needed every ounce of help they would be able to give him. Without further adieu Morrison attacked one of the Eradicators with deadly accuracy, for this was not his first fight against these monsters. Genji followed suit, taking the other Eradicator.

It screamed at Genji, but it did not attack. Genji noticed the large gaping indentation it had on its side. It was the size of Reinhardt’s hammer. Genji acted quick aiming his katana at its head. But before Genji could swing down on the Omnic, it reached out and grabbed an arm. It pulled Genji close, taking advantage of Genji’s shock. But instead of trying to harm him, it pulled Genji’s ear towards its gaping open mouth.

_“It… isssssss… cc-coming…”_ It shrieked at Genji before letting go of his arm. _“Perrrishhh now… or sssssufffferr…”_

And then, it deactivated. Whether it had done so of its own accord or by the damage Reinhardt had caused it, Genji did not know. Nor would he discover, for above their heads was the sound of a mighty roar, and then a large shadow fell over them.

The ground shook, threatening to knock Genji off balance. It was followed by another blood curdling roar, and Genji looked to find a monstrous mechanical beast the size of a seafaring ship standing before them. Its rusted wings were glowing in an ethereal purple, and its tail hammered into the ground, killing humans and Omnics alike. Its mouth hung permanently open, already breathing fire and black smog through the rusted holes in its elongated neck.

A mechanical Northern Dragon. The God Program.

* * *

 

Ana saw it too. She cursed as she prepared a special arrow. She shot the arrow down into the canopy of the woods, a rope following it until it grew taught against whatever the arrow struck. Ana tied the other end of the rope to a nearby boulder and then jumped off the cliff.

Using her bow as leverage, she traveled down the taught rope before landing down on the ground below. In a matter of seconds she was sprinting towards the battlefield.

* * *

 

The ranger McCree led the remnants of Spear through the forest before bringing them to the other side. Hanzo had been expecting to be pulled into the fray the moment they stepped out. But that was not the case. They had made it past enemy lines, but there was no sight of reinforcements, no squadrons that had been left to bolster enemy movements.

Hanzo squinted his eyes as he saw the battlefield for the first time. By the Creator, so many dead…

_Where was Genji? Creator, watch over him. Bring him home._

The roar overhead almost scared Hanzo, but he forced himself to see the flying devil. It landed down in the battlefield. It let out a large spout of purple flame as it lunged down towards the masses. Hanzo could hear the screams of men and women being burnt alive, and it sent shivers down his spine. Such a despicable creature should not exist in this world.

“Okay your Highness, there’s been a change of plans.” McCree stated, drawing Hanzo’s attention away from the demon. Hanzo watched as the ranger reloaded the crossbow and then aimed it at the beast. “First order of business is taking out the God Program. We take that out, and the Omnics under its control will be forced to flee in a frenzy.”

“That is not what we discussed during the War Council.” Hanzo pointed out, but showed no other signs of disagreeing with him.

“Listen. We kill that, we win the battle. I don’t think Morrison is gonna stay angry at us for long if that’s the case.” McCree stated. He glanced down at Hanzo, a hint of a confident smirk pulling at his lips. “What do you say, partner?”

Hanzo almost didn’t realize he was smiling as well. He did not respond in the traditional sense, instead only raising a ready arrow at the God Program. Hanzo’s arrow flew as he let go of the string, and his eagle like eyes watched as he saw it hit the creature’s back. Nothing more than a mosquito bite in the grand scheme of things, but Hanzo was determined.

“I like your style, your Highness.” McCree said with a nod.

McCree quickly rallied the remaining rangers, and then Hanzo found himself in a frontal assault towards the God Program. They would have to fight through the remaining leagues of the Omnic forces to reach the beast. But Hanzo was determined he would see this through. For Father, and for Genji.

* * *

 

Commander Gérard Lacroix found himself alone through the chaos. He had been following Morrison in the assault led by Anvil, but could not keep up with the Knight Captain’s galloping horse. He led the ground forces, and only allowed himself to curse when he saw the descent of the God Program.

With a wave of his sword up above his head, he called for the remaining ground forces to charge with him, to rush the God Program before it was too late. He sprinted forward, shield and sword in hand. Gérard was sure that to the Omnics this must have been a terrifying sight. Good, let them regret ever attempting to force Gibraltans out of their lands.

It felt like it had taken too long to reach Morrison, Reinhardt and the Hanamuran youngster. Already they were battling the God Program on scorched earth. Reinhardt was bleeding from somewhere, and he was visibly limping. The God Program had managed to land a hit on the Royal Protector. He was fortunate that he wasn’t dead.

“Men! To Arms!” Gérard shouted as they reached the ensuing battle.

Soon the God Program was surrounded, and no amount of fire breathing or tail whacking would do it any good. It let out a horrible roar that threatened to drive Gérard deaf, but he pushed forward. Suddenly, Gérard remembered the Royal Enchanter’s gifts, and he pulled out his side dagger. Earlier that morning Gérard had poisoned it with Satya’s enchantment. He prayed to the Creator that this would work, and then he threw it at the beast. It struck the God Program in the hind leg.

Gérard watched in awe as that leg tightened up, paralyzed and no longer in control of the beast. The God Program almost threatened to fall to its side, but managed to redistribute its weight. Still, it managed to give Morrison the opportunity to strike at the creature. From where Gérard stood, he watched as Morrison tried to pry away some of the God Program’s armor with his sword.

It let out another roar, and soon it unfurled its smoking wings. With a quick spout of dark purple flames, the demon took to the skies again, out of their reach. Gérard made his way to Reinhardt as they watched it circle above. And then they saw the flames from its mouth grow. A large fireball flew from the gaping mouth of the creature, and it landed deep into the Gibraltan forces. Their screams of agony filled the air.

And then it fired another.

“We need archers!” Gérard shouted.

He turned towards the rocky foothills, hoping by some miracle Ana’s scouts had heard him. He was greeted by the sight of a volley of arrows arching through the air and towards the circling beast. Gérard raised a shield in case a few arrows had been fired astray, but he kept his eyes on the God Program, praying to the Creator that it would be forced to land again.

A few arrows had met their mark, but it hadn’t been enough. Instead, it looked like it had only caught its attention. Gérard watched in horror as the God Program changed its flight path and soared closer to the foothills of the Hawth Mountains. _No, Creator don’t let this happen._ They would be defenseless against the viciousness of the demon. He feared for those souls, knowing that he could do nothing to help them.

Gérard’s skin began to crawl, a telltale sign of a buildup of powerful magic. Out of instinct Gérard prepared himself to dodge out of the way of an Omnic spell, but was astonished to find that it hadn’t been the Omnics that were attacking them.

_“Ryuu ga waga teki wo Kurau!”_

There was a roar unlike anything Gérard had heard before. And then he saw a lone arrow flying towards the fleeting form of the God Program; it had been fired from behind the main party. And what Gérard saw he could not completely comprehend. Two large, spiraling ethereal blue dragons were following the arrow, flying at high speed towards the God Program. The blue dragons reached out towards the God Program, twice the size of the ethereal beasts, and they tore at it with their strong jaws, snarling with as much ferocity as the creature they were attacking.

The God Program let out a loud roar before it was forced to land, safely away from the path of the ethereal dragons, which continued its spiraling path towards the mountain peaks.

_The Shimadas. They have control over magic that we will never understand._

The God Program had been damaged, but was not quite finished off. It hobbled on three working legs before turning to find the source of the magic that had attacked it. Gérard watched as its gaze traveled through the surviving members of the Gibraltan army, but could not find what it wanted.

“Jack, we must attack it now before it it’s too late!” Gérard shouted. “It could take off again at any second!

Jack nodded in agreement, but then his whole expression changed with a mixture of surprise and fear. He pointed with one hand towards the God Program’s form. “Or maybe not.”

From the edge of the woods stood a solitary figure in blue and leather brown. Gérard squinted his eyes just enough to make out Ana. She was running towards the hulking beast, bow kept close to her back. Gérard had only a moment to wonder what that woman was doing before she avoided a powerful claw attack from the God Program. She quickly scrambled up onto its back before she fired an arrow down towards the ground, a metal wire attached to it. She fired another, and the metal wire grew taught across the demon’s back.

He recognized this technique, although she had not attempted it in almost a decade. Ana was tying down the beast, giving them enough time to attack it while it was trapped. As she shot another arrow, he could see the beast trying to shake her off.

Gérard knew he had to seize the moment, and he sprinted towards the God Program. Behind, he could hear the heavy footfalls of the Gibraltan army. There was a large war cry that proved to be deafening. Lacroix and the rest of the Royal Court pushed forward, through the small pockets of battling Omnics until they reached the God Program. They had to end this now.

The God Program roared in fury, coughing up black smoke as it turned to the sky. By the time Gérard and the others reached its hulking form, Ana had succeeded in trapping it as several arrows tied it down. It struggled to keep its footing, and it was attempting to break itself free from its bindings. But it was too damaged from the ethereal dragons from before, but it didn’t seem to recognize this. Ana jumped off of its backmand rolled to the side, and Gérard her grunt from the impact.

“Quick, the legs!” Ana shouted as he struggled to pick herself up. “Tie down the legs!”

“No! Paralyze it. Satya’s enchantment!” Gérard shouted as he shook his head, turning his head towards Jack. He then turned Ana, seeing the confusion in her face. “It works! Look at its hind leg!”

Ana turned and took in the God Program’s lame leg. Judging by the change in her expression, Gérard knew she could see it. Ana was then quick to pull out her own enchanted dagger and then sprinted towards the beast. Fortunately it was preoccupied by Reinhardt and Jack to see her small form running to its other hind leg. And when he did notice her, it was already too late.

The beast puffed smoking purple flames as it fell to its side, one wing flapping haphazardly against the ground while it crushed the other, flattening anyone who had been too close. Its head twisted and turned like a cornered viper, ready to strike at anything that came within eyesight. Gérard watched in horror as it almost bit Reinhardt.

“Gérard! We’ll distract it! Go for the heart!” Jack shouted at him.

Gérard nodded, knowing what was expected from him.

Jack cried out one final time as he led the remnants of Anvil and Hammer against the God Program’s head. It roared as they surrounded it, breathing toxic fumes as it snapped at anyone it could reach. Gérard took this to his advantage and made his way towards the God Program’s torso. He pried off a few of the rusted panels with the help of his sword, finally revealing the demon’s mechanical heart.

Gérard was met with the dark red glow of a magically burning glass orb. It radiated heat, making Gérard sweat. The longer he stared at it the worse he felt, it was almost as if the dark magical energy was affecting him by just being too close to it.But he paid little time to take in the sight; he could end this now if he acted quick enough.

In one swift motion, Gérard brought his sword down on the orb, shattering it. The light disappeared, as well as the God Program’s horrendous roars. The battlefield fell quiet as the God Program fell to the ground, its life already lost.

And with that, it was all over.

* * *

 

Genji stood among the dead. He held a blanket close to him, shivering despite the warmth of the cloudless afternoon. Someone had given it to him, one of the field medics maybe, but Genji could not remember. Far off in the distance he could see a few other members of the Gibraltan army going through the dead, searching for survivors. Maybe even searching for those they knew and wished to pay final respects.

Genji was here for a similar purpose.

He shivered again as he started moving again. He looked down by his feet, searching the bodies for a pair of familiar faces. It was difficult; too much dirt and blood, and Genji could only look for so long before his stomach threatened to give out on him. But he had to do this.

He could feel his brother’s eyes on him, even from this distance. Hanzo was currently stuck near the medic tents, having his broken nose set, as well as having his shoulders tended to. Genji should be there by his side, having his own injuries looked at, but he had managed to slip away while the doctor’s back had been turned.

It felt like forever, but soon Genji found a familiar face. And when he saw it, Genji could feel a sob break through his throat.

Staring up at him were the unseeing green eyes of Maven. She looked in pain, even in death. Her mouth was twisted open with a dried trickle of blood that had passed between her lips. Her hair looked matted and was covered in dirt. Below, Genji could see the mortal wound she took through her torso. It looked like she had been impaled by a javelin through the back.

Genji cried silently as he knelt down beside Maven’s body. With shaking hands covered her eyes with a torn cloth and closed her mouth. He pulled the javelin out of her form and then slowly picked her up. She weighed nothing, reminding Genji just how young she had been.

With her in his arms he searched for her brother. Orson was not far.

Orson was almost unrecognizable. The wound he had received had crushed his skull, his face painted with his own blood. His left arm had also been crushed, for it was bending in far too many ways. Genji could not bear to look at Orson’s face, and as he set Maven down beside him, he turned his head away.

Genji crossed their arms over their chests and then he knelt beside them, doing his best to say a prayer to the Creator. It took him a few tries to steady his voice.

“Creator… guide these spirits to your embrace. Let them know eternal peace in the glory of the sun, and in the serenity of the moon. They are Your children, and they have fought for Your cause.” Genji whispered. “Be with them now, and forever. By Your guidance, they remained strong.”

Genji remained there for a moment longer, knowing that only he and perhaps Gérard knew of their deaths. Creator… Genji did not even know their family name. How could he tell their parents? How will they know? They deserved better than worrying over children that never returned home for supper, not learning the truth yet still knowing it through absent heartbreak.

It was rude to look through their pockets, especially now that Genji had prayed for their spirits, but how else would he find their family name? But perhaps it was worth it when he found a small silver locket in Maven’s pocket, bearing the name Freeman. It would be a start.

Genji stood up, pocketing the locket somewhere within the folds of his armor. He forced himself to let out one more sob wrenching sigh before turning to return to the camp. 

He paused when his gaze caught the sight of a large owl, dark in color. A barn owl. It was just sitting there, on the branch of a long dead tree that stood at the edge of the battlefield. Genji had the horrible sense that it was staring at him, its white feathered face a haunting mask with two black eyes that unsettled him. It did not move from its perch, its eyes never leaving Genji’s form.

_The Reaper_.

Suddenly Genji grew very angry; he wanted to shout at it. He wanted to blame it for their deaths, for every life that was lost here. It had no right to be here, rejoicing in these deaths while Genji mourned for the loss of his two young friends. Without thinking, Genji reached down and grabbed a stone. He threw it at the branch, and with that the black barn owl took off, screeching in surprise.

Angrily, Genji yelled at it in his native tongue. _“Be gone demon, and never come back!”_

The bird disappeared over the canopy of autumn leaves. Genji took that as a small victory, and with the deaths of Maven and Orson still on his mind, he returned to camp. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah this chapter is a bit messy and not quite organized. I realized halfway through writing this that I don't particularly like writing big battles. But now its done, and hopefully I won't have to write huge battles ever again.


End file.
